


Crawl(ing)

by artisticFlutter



Series: Metamorphosis [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mutants, Alternate Universe - No Miraculous, Blood, Body Horror, Cat tendencies, F/M, Gen, Gore, Healing, Human Experimentation, Kidnapping, Mutation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 16:58:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 44,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8454469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artisticFlutter/pseuds/artisticFlutter
Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste - Experiments #707: Ladybug and #013: Chat Noir - are two subjects from Apatura Corporation. They're mutants - they're Artificial mutants still evolving and learning their powers of creation and destruction. They cannot be separated; they must not be separated. They need to figure out where to go from this point, but until then, they're going to need family, friends, and new allies on their side while avoiding the Corporation now on the hunt for them.(Part Two of Metamorphosis)





	1. Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Well, well, looks like it's November...
> 
> Disclaimer: Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir was created by Thomas Astruc and Zagtoons, Inc. Please support the official release.
> 
> Beta Reader: [PocketNoivern](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketNoivern/profile)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paris is the City of Lights and Love and yet...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir was created by Thomas Astruc and Zagtoons, Inc. Please support the official release.
> 
> Beta Reader: [PocketNoivern](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketNoivern/profile)

Paris – the City of Lights and of Love, both which burned with their own unique intensity throughout the streets as the temperatures fell. However, on the corner of Gotlib, there was no warmth, and there were no lights. With a simple flick, there weren’t any lights anymore as they were turned off. Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie’s fell to darkness again, the sign reading closed rocking to a still in the glass window. Shelves were cleaned of assorted baked goods and pastries that had been on display earlier, leaving behind empty plates and counter space should anyone happen by the dark windows now. Though, those shelves had regularly become bare since October, the usually festive displays for coming winter holidays missing.

The Dupain-Cheng husband and wife were losing hope.

They remembered the evening when their daughter didn’t return home. Tom had called the school, and Sabine had contacted Marinette’s friend Alya. When neither reported seeing Marinette, they panicked. Meanwhile, Alya proceeded to contacting everyone she could on her best friend’s whereabouts, but yielded no results. Tom didn’t want to, and Sabine didn’t want to make the next call either, but minutes later, several police cars were parked before the bakery. Officers questioned the couple and they answered to the best of their abilities.

_ When did you last see your daughter? _

_ How was she acting that day? _

_ Do you know if she made any plans with her friends? _

While they answered questions and detailed the day, they allowed a few officers to search her room. There was nothing out of place save for Marinette’s unmade bed from her late morning rush to school. Her sketchbooks, her textbooks, her bags, and sewing supplies all were evidence of the room being well-loved and inhabited. Even the little garden on the terrace backed up Tom and Sabine’s claims that she wasn’t the kind of girl one would expect to just leave on her own – not without telling them.

That following morning, school wasn’t in session. Instead, the police spoke with Marinette’s classmates and homeroom teacher, and from there, Principal Damocles in order to review the collège’s security footage. That’s where they saw it; that’s how Tom and Sabine finally saw what happened to their little girl. Alongside Damocles and Mme. Bustier, they watched the footage the officers already reviewed. An unmarked SUV of foreign manufacturing parked before the school with several covered figures stepping out. While a few remained near the car and monitoring their surroundings, Sabine covered her mouth when Marinette was apprehended by two of the vehicle’s occupants. She struggled against them until the second covered her mouth with a rag. Probably chloroform someone had said, but neither parent really listened.

Marinette was still conscious as she was carried, still wiggling… still trying to reach home as they took her into the car. The clip ending, officers presented the two her backpack and cellphone, both which had been recovered from a dumpster.

Her kidnapping had been in the news for a week with warnings of potential kidnapping remaining in the news longer. The story may have faded, but the mourning continued though, the hope that she would return home unharmed, but nothing. Days just passed, weeks drew on, and soon, December crept upon them.

Fairy lights twinkled in plenty of shop windows, but Sabine swept the bakery’s kitchen as the stove cooled for the evening beneath dimmed lighting. Overhead, she could hear Tom’s lumbering footfalls as he moved about their kitchen to prepare dinner for the two of them. In the silence of their abode, she could distantly hear the usual holiday music and wished the sounds of the broom’s bristles were louder. She dread the thought of Christmas without Marinette with them, but with the circumstances around her kidnapping, the police had told Sabine that, the longer their girl remained gone, the less likely they were to find her. There were no guarantees she was still in Paris, or even France; just one more with the many others who disappeared.

“Sabine…”

Her sweeping slowed and soon stopping, the short woman turned and looked up at her husband, meeting his usually bright green eyes with her own clouded gray. Neither of them smiled – it just wasn’t possible for them. At least they both they knew they didn’t have to try convincing the other to cheer up.  

“Yes?” she finally managed to whisper. “What is it Tom?”

“There’s a phone call for you. It’s your Mǔqīn,” he replied. Since Marinette’s abduction, they had informed the rest of the family. Relatives did their best to find anything they could, but those that couldn’t chose to call instead, trying to reassure them both she would return to them. Sabine’s mother in particular called three times a week even with the six-hour time difference. She may have only met her half-French granddaughter once before, but she had adored the young blue-eyed toddler and knew how difficult this time would be. There was always misfortune plaguing their family, she had told Sabine once, and this was just another they may have to suffer.

Handing Tom the broom, Sabine passed him quietly and entered the front of the bakery. How she missed it ringing, and how she missed Tom coming downstairs, she didn’t know. That didn’t keep her from picking up the phone and bringing it to her ear.

“Nǐ hǎo māmā,” she greeted, sitting down on the table hidden by the front counter. Their conversation was no different from their usual. The police still had no leads, and none of their relatives had uncovered anything more. Some of their more technically inclined family members had apparently searched the web trying to find any information, but they too had been unsuccessful. Madame Cheng tried to reassure her own daughter that no news from their end was probably for the best considering the type of sites they apparently went through. Sabine had to concede to that, but it didn’t make her fret any less.

She had wept enough over the phone, but despair ate at her heart and each beat made her body ache. Even as her mom softly told her little flower to remain strong – Cheng women needed to stay strong – Sabine still felt hopeless. Goodnights and promises to talk again exchanged, the phone soon rested back upon the receiver. Head bowed, she covered her eyes with her hands to stop them from stinging, to try and stay strong, do anything she could not right now, but the warm drops touched her palm again and soon spilled from her cupped hands. One day, she would stop. One day, she would look back on this with sorrow and not cry, but that wasn’t today, and it wouldn’t be very soon.

Heat encircled her. She recognized her husband’s embrace anywhere as she disappeared in his arms and rest her head against his chest. His face pressed against her hair and his lips gently pressed against her temple. He would hold her as long as she needed; he didn’t have much of an appetite this evening if he went upstairs to finish cooking. They would get through this holiday together too somehow.

Normally, they would remain together longer until Sabine couldn’t cry anymore and Tom would carry her upstairs where they would sit on the couch or go to their bedroom in silence. However, there were three knocks against their door drawing the two of them apart, their hands clasped together. Tom raised an eyebrow while Sabine’s expression darkened. She didn’t know who would be at their door knocking at this time instead of using the doorbell, but she doubted whoever or whatever it was at this hour could be delivering good news. Only officers ever came to that door anymore, and she didn’t want to see them right now. A large hand lightly resting on her shoulder, she felt Tom’s mustache softly scratch her cheek as he kissed her again.

“I’ll go see who that is. I’ll be right back.”

Nodding, she let his hands slip away from her own and felt the warmth that had encompass her leave. He began to walk away, but not without pausing at the doorframe and looking back at his wife. She stared at her empty hands, and he just sighed, turning away upon three more knocks.

“I’m coming! Hold on!”

Flipping the porchlight on before his fingers wrapped around the doorknob, he turned and pulled it open. The broad baker expected to see Officer Roger, or one of the detectives working on Marinette’s case on their doorstep, but neither was present. Instead, his eyes widened in shock as he looked down to see a girl standing before him with a taller, but probably similarly aged boy attempting to hide behind her. Tom blinked, and realized something was quite off about the two of them; the fact they were not wearing costumes as he first assumed just being the start.

The girl’s skin was vibrantly red and decorated with black dots that made him think of an insect down to her bare hands and feet. The boy’s feet and hands were different; covered in black that ended halfway up his arms and his eyes were abnormally glowing with unusually narrow pupils. Both of them were disheveled like they hadn’t cleaned properly in weeks or had their hair trimmed in months. When was the last time they ate as well? They were thin, but where the girl was covered by a gown, he could see the boy’s ribs with each trembling breath and the scars over his skin.

“Who are you?” Tom gasped. What had brought them here? That answer seemed to spark something in the anxious girl’s eyes. Though she clutched the boy’s hand harder, she dared to take a step closer, and actually illuminate herself in the porchlight.

Eyes… she had large bluebell eyes whose gaze bore into him with desperate hope. “Papa… Papa, it’s me. Please…”

There’s a proper response to strangers who may approach like this, but Tom felt his throat constrict and his chest tighten. After fifteen years of hearing that voice, hearing it change and seeing her grow, he already knew his answer. Hearing her laugh, cry, and call to him with an accompanying smile and arms open to meet him with a hug. His hand trembled on the door and he stared longer, removing the red and black mentally to see the girl who stood before him, her lip quivering in fear from his silence.

“S-Sabine…! Sabine, come to the door! Quickly!”

He called to his wife with such urgency that she had to leave her spot in the bakery. She shuffled to him with her head low, eyes empty and irises slightly red still. “Who is it, Tom?”

“Honey, look up and you’ll see.”

Displeased with the answer, she nonetheless raised her head to look at their company, meeting blue almost in an instant. Sabine stared half as long as Tom before her eyes opened wider. She slipped past him and approaching the red girl with her hands rising to cup her face. The girl did not retreat or push her away, but her mouth curled into a trembling smile and her eyes glistened with unfallen tears. “Maman.”

“Marinette…” Thumbs rubbed over still peach flushed cheeks beneath blue eyes, wiping away a few drops as mother and daughter gazed at each other. Marinette was still trying to smile, but her mother’s arms wrapping around her the first time in months had those walls crumble in an instant. She released her companion’s hand to embrace her mother while breaking down, sobbing into her shoulder. Sabine stroked her daughter’s head and wept herself, arms shaking as she held her close. “We were so worried! When you didn’t come home, we called everyone trying to find you!”

Massive arms wrapped around both of them, Tom bringing the two close and cry openly with them. “Maman, Papa, I-I’m sorry…” Marinette murmured from beneath her parents’ hold, “I didn’t mean to—“

“Shh, it’s alright sweetheart. You don’t have to apologize to us.” Her father kissed the top of her head, “We saw what happened on the school’s security footage. We knew you would never go anywhere without telling us.”

“I still made you two so worried.”

That was just to be expected of her; worrying about them and not so much about herself. And about her, there was a lot that Sabine did not like about her daughter’s current state. The gown she was dressed in was thin and every part of her had some manner of dirt or stain. Though, now that she looked past Marinette, there was another she hadn’t seen since she focused in on their baby girl.

Tom and Sabine both loosened their holds and looked at the boy awkwardly standing alone and away from the three of them. His lime green eyes briefly rose and caught them looking, and that only made him retreat further away, the dark triangles on his head folding back. They didn’t know what to make of him, or the fact Marinette brought him home like some stray cat. What really concerned them were the metal cuffs that were on his wrists. They might have to have a discussion about bringing convicts home, but Marinette pulled away from them to wipe her eyes and approached the boy, taking hold of his hand again. He stared at her, frightened and unsure, but didn’t say anything as she turned to face her parents.

“Maman… Papa… This is my friend, Adrien. He was in the same place I was and helped me escape.” The name sparked recognition, but confusion as well. Marinette had spoken of an Adrien before, but he had been a boy she had begun to fancy shortly after starting school and not just any boy at that. Everyone knew about Gabriel Agreste and his only son. His father was famous - the creator of a fashion empire their daughter dreamed of joining; meanwhile, his son apparently modeled for him personally and served at the face of the company. This boy before them – this Adrien – was far from that model now. He shifted uncomfortably and whispered something to Marinette. Her face scrunched and she snapped her head towards him, shaking it harshly which made him shrink a little more.

Sabine had to ask. “Marinette, is this the same boy from school?”

The teens broke from their silent discussion, but Marinette didn’t say anything. Instead, she now eyed Adrien gently, patting his arm with her other hand. His head remained low, but his eyes drifted back to her parents. He swallowed. “Yes. I… sat in front of Marinette at school. It was only about a week.”

“That day I came home and told you he was being homeschooled again? That was the day he had been taken,” Marinette finished, still watching him while her parents’ eyes widened. “They did this to him… and they did it to me, too.” They didn’t understand, but they knew she had to be speaking about her skin and his unique features. They wanted to know why and they wanted to ask more, but a chilling wind and distant carols reminded the adults where they currently stood. Sabine approached both of them.

“Come inside, both of you. We shouldn’t continue discussing this here.”

Tom moved aside, holding the door open with one hand and watched behind them as the small woman led the two teens upstairs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! After waiting a whole month, how many people were looking forward to this? This is the official beginning of Part Two in Metamorphosis, Crawl(ing)! Right now, the plan is to have fifteen chapters and then again break before Part Three. Sort of waiting to see if I get into these two zines anyway... and might do another drawing challenge in December; I'm hoping to find something holiday-related!
> 
> What usually goes down here? RAMBLING RIGHT! One thing for this chapter is I really had to figure out how long Marinette and Adrien have been gone. Now Adrien was gone shortly after beginning school which starts first week of September to near the end of October with six weeks changing him. Then Marinette was brought in that day and her changes took until November and she was introduced to Adrien in November too. A few days hibernating, then over two weeks together being tested before they escaped and were out for two days heading back means yeah... it's about early/mid-December year depending. Another thing I had to look into is weather in France during Winter. Technically, I should probably put in more rain, but the two of them have been inside a cell the majority of the time. Snow isn't expected to be common in December, but I can always throw it in since the last few years have apparently been different. Finally, Mǔqīn is mother. I figured Tom would be polite when referring to his mother-in-law while Sabine is obviously less formal.
> 
> Well, that's my rambling for now. I'll try to stick to the usual Wednesday schedule but we'll see how it goes. Chapters might not end up as long as some in Emergence, but we'll see! For now, please leave kudos, comments, and subscribe! See you in the next chapter!


	2. I'm Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What makes a home? Who makes that home?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir was created by Thomas Astruc and Zagtoons, Inc. Please support the official release.
> 
> Beta Reader: [PocketNoivern](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketNoivern/profile)

The discussion had been brief, but Marinette expected it to resume after dinner. Considering how her parents had been looking at them – two bedraggled and mutated teenagers with one being their daughter – they wanted to give them some time to rest and clean up before eating. Entering her room again had been surreal. She found herself running her fingers over everything and pulling away nothing. It was spotless – her Maman must have come up and cleaned for her. She couldn’t even imagine what it probably felt like, and she would have come up more than once to keep everything in this condition. Her textbooks, her sketchbooks, her workspace beneath her loft… even her fabrics beside her sewing machine had been folded.

Stepping away, she turned to her computer. The desk space was just as impeccable as everywhere else in her room. Leaning close to the black screen, she stared at it, considering turning it on, but then paused. She could just make out her reflection – her grown out hair tangled near the tips, the streak of dirt on her face; she combed some of the loose strands behind her ear and noticed how the shell was red and spotted. Beneath her earlobe and down to her jawline, she still had normal skin. Besides looking horribly sunburned, her overall appearance wasn’t  _ bad _ per se; at least, not when compared to…

Marinette glanced over her shoulder, noticing Adrien was still standing at her sink. Just like her, it must’ve been the first time he had seen his reflection. He had figured out all his changes, but there was a distinct difference between  _ knowing _ those changes and  _ seeing _ them first hand. His claws rested against the round mirror as he stood there eyeing himself and curling his lip to expose his fangs, drawing a grimace next. Watching his ears wiggle, she turned away before he caught her staring. About a quarter turn away from her computer again, she froze and blinked, gazing at her wall.

For a moment, her face felt hot. Oh no, she had completely forgotten about the magazine clippings she had. There was a black-and-white cover shot with a few more from said magazine featuring an interview with a certain teenage boy nearby and had been followed by an article talking about the Agreste line. The longer she stared at the photos, the more she felt her flush fade, and her heart sank. Flawless skin, perfectly coiffed hair, and eyes that glowed even in the colorless photos, yes, that was immaculate model Adrien Agreste – that had been Adrien. Reaching up, she pulled the cover image from the wall and looked at it closer. No ears, no ‘mask’, no slit pupils, nothing. Nothing but a normal (subjectively so) human boy resided in the picture.

… This couldn’t stay here.

None of the others could either. Not when the featured individual was currently behind her and taking in his new animalistic appearance in the mirror. There was a faint hiss as claws probably scratched her glass, but she could care less about that right now. Her hands hastily peeled and disposed of every image, leaving pink walls blank with only the faded wallpaper around being the faintest indication they had been there.

“Marinette…?”

“AH!”

She leapt far too high and felt her foot roll – or, something rolled beneath her foot. Either way, she hit the ground with a yelp. Groaning, she rubbed her lower back and turned her eyes on whatever offending object she had just stepped on. A bright blue ball of yarn sat halted by the trapdoor, thread running from it all the way back to her corner workbench where it ended at Adrien tangled in it. When that happened, she had no idea, but he looked absolutely ridiculous. So much for the destructive boy she knew before tearing up metal walls in their cell. However, instead of laughing at his predicament, she could only look exasperated realizing  _ which _ yarn he was now caught in.

“Adrien…! That’s my merino yarn!” she exclaimed, crawling over to him. Somehow he hadn’t broken any of it, but he was trapped in a twisted mess of string and curled in a tight ball. Wide eyes watching her, his ears pulled back at her yell.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to… I just saw it and I suddenly couldn’t help myself.” Staring at him hard, she had to wonder if it was the cat eyes making him look more apologetic than usual. They did enhance his overall pitiful feline pose, and she guessed that – given some of his mannerisms – this could be just another incident. She wondered what other behaviors they had to look forward to as she sighed and slowly began to untangle him.

“It doesn’t look like there’s any harm done to it. Just… next time, go for the cotton ones. I had to wait for a sale to get this particular ball.” Marinette’s brows pressed and her lips pursed while she worked. She did not understand for the life of her how he tied his legs together, or his forearms, but he did. The entire yarn ball had almost come out; there was not going to be enough time to roll it back up between cleaning up and dinner. “Maybe we can get you an exclusive basket to bat around later, kitten.”

“No, I think I’m good with—wait, did you just call me ‘kitten’?” Freed from the thread, Adrien sat up with wide eyes and leaned closer to her. She, in turn, squeaked and ducked her head, her shoulders rising. It wasn’t as though she meant to call him that. She cursed the adorable look he gave her mere moments ago.

“I… w-well, while you were tangled up, you just… looked like one?” she spluttered, but then decided to cover her face and groan. The last thing he needed right now was to be reminded how much he looked like a cat. Didn’t she just remove those photos to stop that? Marinette expected him to move away, but instead of shuffling, she heard chortling. Chancing to peek through her fingers, she blinked when she realized that wonderful laughter was coming from Adrien.

“I wouldn’t have expected to ever be called a kitten. I like it!” His tail was actually waving behind him. If only she had her cellphone to take a picture, but her parents were holding onto it for now.  The tension easing, Adrien sighed and settled back, looking at the yarn again. “… So, merino.”

“I was going to make a birthday present for someone,” she answered, slowly rolling up more of the thread. She had to be wary or else it would just tangle up; that wouldn’t do for later. “At this point, I guess it can be a Christmas present.” Honestly, she should have made the scarf anyway, but she didn’t know what would’ve happened. There was no way to predict the future three months ago. Biting the inside of her cheek, Marinette decided to change the subject. “Anyway, if you want to clean up before dinner, the washroom is downstairs, out the front door, and to the left. There are some clothes on the chaise for you, but they’re Papa’s old clothes so they’ll be pretty big. My parents will have to go shopping for something around your size later.”

“… They don’t have to.” She blinked, and tilted her head at his words. Though she stared at him, he didn’t look back at her. Black ears fallen forward on his head, his hand rubbing his neck, he just looked towards the bare wall. “They’ve already done so much, and I haven’t done anything. Not for them…”

Her heart shouldn’t skip seeing him look so small and vulnerable, but it was counteracted by the urge to wrap him up tightly in blankets and give him hot chocolate. She didn’t understand why he thought he hadn’t done anything though. Moving closer, she could at least give him a hug – just as always. “But Adrien, you have. You saved me, and that’s enough for them.”

“But I didn’t.” He shook his head, pressing his head against her shoulder, “I didn’t get us out of the cell or get us through the forest. You broke my chains and opened the door. You found us food, and shelter, and knew which direction would get us here.”

“Maybe… maybe I did that,” she whispered, holding onto his tightly with one arm, her other hand petting the back of his head. “But you broke us through the barricade, and hid us that first night. You knew when they were coming, and you distracted them when they were going to catch us…” He didn’t say anything, but that was fine. She smiled and closed her eyes, pressing her face against his hair. “… You helped me keep going while we were in that cell.”

“… What?”

“Mhm… All those tests they kept running hurt so much, and going through them alone, I… I just started thinking there was no way out, that I would have to forget about ever seeing home or my parents again.” His hands pressed into the small of her back, and he shifted, drawing her closer. There was a familiar rumble resonating from his chest, easing her heart and steadying her breathing. “See? You’re doing it again. Being with you in that cell like this, I found the strength keep going.”

“Marinette…” He squeezed her gently and she held him just as tightly. They pulled away from each other; however, his hand came to cup her cheek. Her eyes rose to meet his own luminescent emerald green, sorrowful, but so grateful as well. And coupled with his smile, it made her chest ache.

She leaned against his palm, hands holding on his wrist as she smiled wider than before. “They owe you so much… and I do too. Thank you for everything, Adrien.” If there was ever a moment she thought he might cry, this was it, but she shushed him softly, releasing his hand to rub his ears. “Don’t cry. Go get cleaned up, okay?”

He didn’t even attempt minced words as he nodded, trembling still. She missed his hands when they left, and watched him slowly stand and retrieve his clothes. Standing herself, she opened the trapdoor and followed him down the stairs. While he would continue on to the washroom, she turned and entered the kitchen where her Maman and Papa were cooking for four instead of two. Her parents only spoke up after Adrien had left through the main door.

“Marinette, could you please set the table?”

“Yes, Maman…” She missed saying that and smiled as she gathered plates and silverware for the four of them. Four – not two, or three – four of them at this small table and sharing the cozy townhouse, but they would figure it out. Despite what she told Adrien, she really didn’t know how her parents felt about him staying here. After all, he still had a home and he still had his father, but thinking about it now, she didn’t remember ever really talking about his home life while they were in the facility. She tried at least a few times, but she remembered he had deflected answering them. The most she did get about his father not waiting to see him had her concerned.

Why?

Hopefully, he would tell them; at least, hopefully, he would tell her one day.

She gazed at the plate she just set, seeing her reflection again albeit much less than on her monitor. Red and dotted skin still, but she was still her… she was sure about that. A pale hand settled over her right hand, and Marinette raised her head to meet her mother’s beaming face.

“Take your time, dear.”

She felt herself smile back, “Right… thanks, Maman.”

“Marinette, you don’t have to thank us,” her mother sighed, but smiled still all the same. “We’re your parents. And right now, you two need a place to be home.” Pulling away, she went back to the kitchen to help finish dinner preparations, and Marinette followed to see if she could do anything else. The stove clicked as Tom turned it off and cast a smile at both of them. Though she smiled back, she figured she may as well ask them while she had their attention, and while Adrien was showering.

“… Maman, Papa, how long… can Adrien stay here?”

Her parents exchanged looks of bewilderment and her mother turned back first. “He can stay as long as he needs to. Why? Does he want to go home? It’s fine if he does, but you’ll have to accompany him according to your explanation.”

_ That would require them stepping out into public, too. _

Marinette grimaced and remembered that going outside really wasn’t something they could do – something they shouldn’t do. Shaking her head, she wondered how she could explain. “While we were in the forest, Adrien didn’t mention going home. He said that his father wouldn’t want to see him like this before talking about sleeping on the school’s roof, or in the park.”

“Really now?” Her father’s face fell into a scowl while her mother appeared discontented.  Crossing his arms, her father shook his head, “He may not appear the same, but any parent would want to see their child after they’ve been taken.”

“… But I wasn’t.”

Her parents looking over her shoulder, Marinette slowly turned to see Adrien standing behind her. As expected, her father’s old clothes swallowed him as they draped from his lanky frame, the neckline low and the sleeves down to his elbows. A towel rested over his shoulders, catching his damp hair so he wasn’t dipping everywhere. He appeared smaller than he truly was with his head bowed and eyes focused on the ground.

She didn’t understand.

“You… What do you mean?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed and she noted his claws were twitching. She didn’t want to force him to speak, but he was trying to get the words out. “That day when I got home from school, my father asked me to meet with Hawkmoth. If I… if I cooperated with him, I would be doing something that could help people; and father said he would be happy. I wanted him to be happy again.”

Breathing, she forgot how to do that as she watched him raise his hand to his face. No longer was it just his hands, but every part of him trembled. And now that he had begun to speak, she didn’t think he could hold back. “If he knew I wasn’t there – if he finds out I left – he’ll be disappointed. I can’t go home… Hawkmoth didn’t release me. Father will refuse to let me in…” Both hand were now at his face, trying to hide the fact his eyes were glassy.

No one moved, Marinette’s head spinning at this revolution. It seemed unreal, but it made sense. If Adrien had been kidnapped, why  _ wouldn’t _ he be reported as missing? From what she understood before, his father had been abnormally protective. And if his father had introduced him to Hawkmoth on purpose, why not pretend everything returned to normal and fool his friends? But this was still absurd. His father would be  _ disappointed _ after his son was tortured for months on end all for his sake? Rapid breathing and distressed vibrations drew her from her reprieve, a gasp escaping her as she rushed Adrien and wrapped her arms around him.

Everything was making sense in the worst way.

This wasn’t fair.

* * *

 

Dinner at the table with her parents wasn’t happening tonight. Instead, her parents let her take Adrien back to her room and sent two plates up with them, leaving the task of calming him down to her.

In the dark quiet sanctuary she could provide, they sat on the chaise, her blanket from her bed wrapped around both of them while the boy clung to her and wept quietly. She didn’t know what more to say and opted to hold him silently with her fingers gently combing through his hair. When he managed to calm down, she coaxed him into letting her feed him some stew. They ended up eating three-quarters of his plate with her food remaining untouched, but that was fine. The bottom line was at least they ate anything.

A few minutes turned to an hour, and Adrien had fallen asleep with his face resting on her chest and his hold only minutely looser than before. His features were relaxed as he breathed softly, but there were still treks evident of where his tears fell. She wiped them away with a forlorn sigh, “I wish you could have told me…” But what would she have been able to do in the facility? She still would’ve brought him home, and asked her parents if he could stay. There was nothing about this she would have done differently. If anything, the order of events would’ve just spared him from his break down.

Hand stilling, she shifted her hold so she could properly lie down with him. She couldn’t move him entirely, but she didn’t mind being his pillow. Marinette needed to – no, she wanted to see him happy, and wanted to show him he was loved. No matter how long he had gone unsure, she would prove it to him.

“I love you,” she murmured, hugging him all the more. He probably didn’t hear her, but she imagined he did, and hoped he could feel how much she cared by holding him this close. “I’ll always love you, kitten.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Here's another chapter in the light of some... unsettling things happening. Just want you to know it's okay. Take a deep breath and let it out slowly, and repeat this as many times as you want or need to. Take a moment too to step back and try looking at things that make a glass half-full instead of half-empty, and know you can still be a difference by continuing to be kind.
> 
> Now then, notes on the chapter... I HAD TO SCRAP ONE VERSION GOSH. I started writing this and if I continued with that first draft, the chapter would've been much, _much_ longer. Some of you probably would've liked it, but it also would've been full of dialogue and other probably unnecessary detailings.
> 
> One detail in this chapter is... the bathroom. From what I understand, housing in France (and London it seems like) don't typically have bathrooms connected to one room. Fair because my home here is sort of the same. There's a bathroom down the hallway, but my parents do have one for their room. Marinette has a small sink in her room in the attic, and below her room is the kitchen. However, we don't see much of the stairwell that connects the ground floor and second floor so I figure somewhere outside the main living area on the second floor, the bathroom may be there and possibly a small guest room. Of course, the layout also suggests a small dwelling for the family of typically three so there might only be enough room for Marinette's parents and herself to live comfortable... and if that's the case, gosh it must be cramped having family over. Then again, her uncle visited in Kung Food so there must be some extra space.
> 
> Finally, the wool had made an appearance! The great debate with it: Adrien's birthday, but we're not getting into that. Yes, the scarf was still going to exist, and I wanted to pick out a yarn that would be of good quality which Marinette might get. Now Merino wool makes a good scarf - soft, keeps a person warm, but also breathes on warm days. The other option was cashmere, a more expensive wool that's soft, good at insulating, but not cooling. So, choice was obvious since practical and fashionable. Merino isn't all that often expensive, but for a good quality, the price definitely goes up.
> 
> Well, that's all I have to say for now. As always, please leave kudos, comments, and subscribe! See you in the next chapter!


	3. Chat Noir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calm... one of them needed to remain calm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir was created by Thomas Astruc and Zagtoons, Inc. Please support the official release.
> 
> Beta Reader: [PocketNoivern](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketNoivern/profile)

Warmth, sugar, and freshly rising bread – the three things that he found made for a comfortable evening, and provided a wonderful wake-up call. Well, better than the sound of people hurriedly moving below, but even that was muffled by the gentle ‘lub-lub’ rhythmically beating in his ear. Softly chuffing, he turned and nuzzled his cheek against his pillow, free ear flicking when a groan responded. The thumping sped up and his brows furrowed. He tightened his arms and his claws seized the warm form to keep them from squirming.

… Wait.

Head rubbing, nose twitching, he took in the scent again. All around him it smelled of sugar and heated dough, but beneath him, he did smell earth and the clinging bitter stench of chemicals and crusted blood. Though he wanted to continue sleeping, those smells concerned him. If he woke up, what reality would he be facing this time? What if  _ he _ had been dreaming this whole time, and would find himself back in the facility with Marinette. He didn’t want that to be true – not after seeing the way her face lit up seeing her parents again and witnessing the tears they had shed. They deserved to be together, and to be happy.

This was his fault. He should have disobeyed his father just one more time.

Frowning, he opened his eyes to robin’s egg blue and had to blink. Wrinkled cotton before his eyes, he followed the folds to a neckline, noticing it covered red skin and framed a black spot on what was visibly someone’s sternum. Staring longer, blood rose to his face when he recalled the previous evening; more specifically, how and where he had fallen asleep. The body beneath him was tense.

Holding still, he swallowed, “Ah…  M-Marinette, are you awake?”

“… Yes? I… think so.”

Eyes drifting elsewhere so he stopped considering the plush mound his cheek rested against, he made out the pale pastel pink comforter and the almost equally pink wallpaper surrounding. Easily, this distracted him and he lifted his head from Marinette’s chest to observe more. The two of them were currently lying on her chaise built more for one than two, but as tangled together as they were it was no trouble for them to fit on the polka-dotted cushion. Her head rested on the single burgundy decorative throw pillow and a second she must have retrieved from her bed, both propped against the headrest. Trailing his eyes up to full-body mirror, he looked right at the window letting the earliest rays of morning peek into the room as they weaved through gray skies and smoke. He continued to follow this line left all the way around the room to confirm indeed they were still in Marinette’s bedroom.

As he stared at her workspace and vanity, he froze at the feeling of fingers slipping through his still golden locks and nails scratch just the base of his right ear. The purr generated before he could stop it.

“Did you sleep well, Adrien?” He heard her whisper while he sunk back down, more appropriately resting his head on her stomach. His answer was a hum almost swallowed by his other rumblings, but she must have heard. Head lulling, he allowed himself to nearly slip back into the warm embrace of sleep, eyelids closing as a soft breath escaped him, but Marinette stopped scratching. Confused, he turned his eyes upwards to meet her, allowing his chin to nudge her belly, “Hey…”

“I’ll scratch your ears later, but I really want to shower before the bakery starts getting busy.” Though, she did take the opportunity to muss up his hair.

He pursed his lips in a pout, but he knew it was his fault (again) that she didn’t have the opportunity to shower. After the little truth he managed to tell them the previous evening, he needed to get away to some place safe to him. Dark, away from people he was still uncomfortable or wary of, and wrapped up by her. Holding to her so tightly, she couldn’t have escaped, but he was better now. Everything was alright and he could start trying to do something for his sudden residency in the Dupain-Cheng home.

Arms releasing, he pressed his palms flat beside her waist and pushed himself up to sit above her, and then next to her as he shifted to the edge of the chaise. She – in turn – rolled to her side before rising. Delicate fingers touched his shoulder and he half-turned to look at her, smiling when he saw the small grin on her face. She was far too kind to him, patiently accepting his bizarre needs and even odder wants that just such rudimentary plans he had to be helpful didn’t seem like enough repayment. Hopefully, he would figure something out. For now, he watched her walk over to her trunk to retrieve some clothes she had laid out the previous evening.

“Maman’s probably working on breakfast and Papa will be warming up the ovens,” she said, unfolding her shirt. He raised an eyebrow at her frown and heard her mumbling about a hoodie, her head turning to look at her workspace. Following her gaze, the desk was bare. Then, he considered, that she might be making plans to make a hoodie. When she opened the trapdoor leaning back down into the living room and kitchen, Adrien decided to stand up and follow. Eventually he would have to come back out, and he really did need to apologize to her parents for his behavior before dinner.

Those first steps downstairs had him overwhelmed by the scent of baked goods again; so fresh that he could taste the soft buttery flakes before seeing the croissants when he peered down. The small table was only set for two, medium bowls parallel from each other with a bottle of milk sitting in the center next to an assortment of fruit. There was cocoa mix, yogurt, jam, and butter crowded onto the opposite end where one accidental move might knock it all to the ground. If his nutritionist saw this, they would probably have a fit, but what would concern them didn’t concern Adrien. He actually loved the spread compared to what his – what would have been served at the manor.

Descending that final step, he turned to see Marinette and her mother step apart to look at him. They had been talking in low voices while he stared at the table, but he hadn’t paid much mind to listen in. However, several cues in Marinette’s stance caused him to grimace, ears folding forward. Something had her upset, but what? “Good morning, Mme. Cheng. Is… everything alright? If I’m interrupting, I can step outside…”

It had been so long since he’d interacted with adults – with parents - that were not the scientists or his father that he didn’t know what to say. They were already so kind, but what if he said the wrong thing? Did the wrong thing? Just gave them another reason to reconsider taking him in, and maybe even throw their daughter out. He had seen movies with mutants before, and rarely would you see the actual parents if the director bothered to include the hero’s home life.

“That’s not necessary, Adrien. And please, you can call me Sabine,” Marinette’s mother said, clasping her hands together. Her eyes looked towards her daughter, thin brows slightly pressed. “I just informed Marinette that the officers working on her case will be coming by after we closed tonight. They’ll want to speak to her.”

He cringed, understanding why Marinette shivered. Both of them would rather put the facility behind them and try to be normal, but that couldn’t entirely happen either. They would ask invasive questions, but they had to confirm she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng and put on record what occurred. Though, only her?

“… Can I sit with her while they’re here?” He didn’t want her to be subjected to them alone and trapped discussing their experiments with the faintest possibility they wouldn’t believe. If he had to, he could demonstrate what he could do.

“Adrien.” His eyes locked with Marinette’s, quickly picking up on her distress, “You can’t. They’ll ask what your name is, and if you tell them, they’ll go to your father. And if your father finds out, what if he tells Hawkmoth?”

That was a fair point she brought up, but he already knew what to do. “I won’t give them my name. I’ll tell them…”

 

* * *

 

“… I’m Experiment #013… my name is Chat Noir.”

A whole day of helping around the house and back in the bakery’s kitchen could not make this meeting feel any less solemn. It had almost been cheerful as Adrien patiently, but rapidly learned about a baker’s lifestyle and followed Marinette around, mimicking her actions. Rain had started coming down when the Patisserie was closed up, falling heavier and more thunderous when that knock finally came at the door. Tom answered, and Sabine stopped both Adrien and Marinette as they helped put away bowls and cooking sheets. His ears lowered, but glancing from the corner of his eye at his friend, he managed to steel himself.

Two detectives and two officers, and all four were waiting in the living room on the couch. The bright red hair and pale skin of one Roger Raincomprix stood out to both of them, but Adrien didn’t recognize the others. He took Marinette’s hand when they turned to the door to see the two of them being led by Sabine to two kitchen chairs set up nearby. Marinette was trembling; gently, he squeezed her hand, leaning close after they sat down to whisper, “It’ll be okay. I’m right beside you…”

Though, as he sat up straight to face the gawking officers, maybe it wouldn’t be okay. They stared for a good few minutes, and it would probably be completely silent if Adrien didn’t hear her parents moving around below to finish cleaning up the bakery for tomorrow. The wordless inspection concluded with uncomfortable shifting and exchanged looks, Roger the only one whose face betrayed some sympathy. Finally, the detective holding a pen and notepad spoke up, asking for their names.

Marinette gave them her full name…

… He pretended to forget he was Adrien Agreste. They were staring again after his answer, but his expression didn’t waver. If there was one thing he had properly been prepared for, it was maintaining a face to conceal his emotions. It hurt, but he couldn’t be himself at risk of endangering the Dupain-Cheng’s and Marinette. Bluebell eyes flitted in his direction, but he continued staring back at the officers, waiting for their questions to continue as he held her hand tighter, his number and subject name roiling in their minds.

The questions were as he anticipated – and she had expected them too..

_ Where were you taken when you were kidnapped? _

“It was a large facility… A laboratory to be accurate.” Both of them shivered minutely. “It was somewhere in a forest.”

_ What was done to you there? _

“Experiments,” Marinette murmured, “They said we were needed - that we have these powers - but we didn’t know why. We don’t know what they really are.”

_ Who are ‘they’? _

She shook her head. “I… I don’t exactly know. We didn’t learn any of the scientists’ or nurses’ names. We only ever knew Hawkmoth.”

_ Who is Hawkmoth? _

“… That’s what he called himself.” Marinette slowly shook her head again, “Besides that, I don’t know. He always wore a mask, and it covered most of his face. He was ordering everything.”

_ Ah… Chat Noir? Do you have a better idea about this power? _

“No. Marinette’s power and mine are different. I don’t know hers…” He could see their uncertainty whether to believe them or not. His hand was tugged, and he turned to see Marinette holding out an apple to him. Raising his head, the message was silently passed between him. Was she sure he should do this? Eyes flitting to the apple, her gaze fell between them before coming to his face again, her head bobbing once. Fangs gnashed behind his lips, he uncurled his other claw, and exhaled slowly. It prickled on his back just like before and he felt the black sparks race down his arms through his nerves and hopping over his skin. It gathered in his palm and noticeably bubbled; he heard the sharp intakes of breath from the couch when the apple touched his hand and disintegrated before it could rot, leaving the heavy scent of burnt apple and a pile of ash. “I have to concentrate to use it… and I have to stay with Marinette so I don’t lose control. That’s all I know.”

That’s all the officers needed. The rapid race of their hearts, the sudden wave of fear, but they had proved their point.

“We’ll answer any questions as much as we can.” A small red hand with a single black spot brushed away the ash to take hold of his claw, her voice making her ears twitch. His eyes narrowed and he felt his head land on her shoulder, noting she smelled like macarons and strawberries. “No one can know we’re here or what we can do. Please, we know Hawkmoth is looking for us.”

He heard them whispering, but something else called his attention. Fear could come off their company all it wanted, but her? Her dread drew him to the edge of his seat, shutting off whatever part of his mind was telling him to just hold her hands. She had to be closer – he had to hold her and make his… what? Friend, they were friends. He just needed to make sure to calm her down. One of them needed to be of a rational mind.

_ “It may become necessary…” _

Adrien turned his head away from her hair, a single green eye peering at the detective speaking. He didn’t even realize they had stopped talking amongst each other and rose. His hair stood at their proximity now and his tail thrashed when he felt her dismay.

_ “… just for the safety of your parents, to move you two elsewhere. Keep that in mind. We’ll try to be in touch again soon.” _

“I… W-We understand, detective.”

Her voice trembled and drew his thinned pupils back in her direction. He didn’t hear the officers say goodbye, but the moment the door closed, his body was moving. Picking up Marinette with little warning, he carried her up the staircase with one arm and pushed her trapdoor open with his empty claw. Marinette’s mood fluctuated wildly, but no words came from him. He could not form any words as he closed the trapdoor and carried her back to the chaise.

“Adrien…!?”

With her in his lap, his claws drew the blanket around them both, and his arms held her close. Her heart was racing almost in rhythm with his purr. Chin resting on her head, he gently combed his claw through her hair. This was a safe place; he would keep her safe.

He would keep his…

Friend…?

Fingers brushed against her cheek and she sighed.

His head and heart both ached.

Calm… 

 

Comfort his companion; comfort his queen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Yeah, so Adrien's mind might be a little slightly permanently scarred.
> 
> I basically have a filler chapter coming up next, but then the ball will really roll... er, more drop from the side of a skyscraper probably. Roller coaster will drop at 90 degrees? Whatever metaphor works in regards to Chapter 5. So, next chapter a little happy! And then... I don't know you'll have to see~
> 
> Oh, I might have something else in the works too, but we'll see if I can get that up eventually.
> 
> As always, please leave kudos, comments, and subscribe! See you in the next chapter!


	4. For the Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A scarf, warmth, and family love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir was created by Thomas Astruc and Zagtoons, Inc. Please support the official release.
> 
> Beta Reader: [PocketNoivern](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketNoivern/profile)

It was quiet downstairs, the bakery and house locked and all the lights out except for one hidden behind a striped cat pillow high in the attic room. Marinette leaned against said pillow, her legs stretched out beneath the covers as she worked the twin knitting needles within her hold. Finally, she was almost done, but she mentally kicked herself for not having it complete sooner. She just lacked what focus she had prior between getting home, trying to settle in, and the police questioning. What she neglected to include was Adrien’s odd behavioral lapses, but those she had already become accustomed to. How could she not after they were all that steadied her in the last few months?

Thinking of said companion, Marinette lowered her needles and looked at the wild blonde head resting beside her. All day, he had seemed particularly restless, breaking bowls on accident and gazing out into the wet streets of Paris with an unreadable expression, his tail flicking. Attempts to coax him out of the living room were met with silence; even the usually effective gentle ear rubs went mostly ignored. He still purred, but he didn’t lean into her hand or demand more as she pulled away. It wasn’t until her parents left for Christmas mass did he come to her, head crashing into her shoulder to mess up one purl stitch. Somewhat scowling, whatever glare she almost mustered disappeared at his expression. They had both been tired before, but he just seemed  _ exhausted _ and not in the sense he required sleep.

“Adrien? What’s wrong?” Making sure to set her thread, she let the needles rest in her lap so her arm could wind around the boy. No answer. He shifted, and she allowed him to make himself more comfortable, quiet still as his head rested on her chest, one silky black ear over her heart. Exhaling through her nose, her hand rose to try administering gentle strokes again over his hair, still curious to what thoughts must be running through his head.

“… Sorry,” he finally whispered, arms wrapping around her not protectively, but desperately, needing to feel and hold. “I… I want to tell you, but not right now. Or, not today at least.” Marinette blinked, fingers pausing until he gave her a nudge so she would resume slow, meticulous strokes through his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp. This seemed to be doing the trick and his eyes drifted shut. “… You’re still here.”

“Of course I’m still here.” Her parents may have gone out, but she wasn’t going anywhere. Not that she would escape his hold right now, but neither of them would probably leave the house very soon. “Do you think I would leave you? I promised you a home, and if it couldn’t have been here, then we would have found another together. Don’t forget that.” Knitting forgotten, she brought her other arm up to hold him, knees tucking in so she could be closer to him. “Maman and Papa are going to be gone for at least an hour. Try getting some sleep, okay? I’ll wake you up when food’s ready.”

And Adrien did rest, curled beside her now as she continued her knitting. His breathing was faint, but she could feel it against her side, tickling her clothed skin where her pajamas pressed. This was now one of the few times he ever seemed at ease these days… and she remembered seeing some similar looks flitting over his face at school. There was more she had to learn about him, but everything new did not lessen her desire to see him happy – it only made it grow. Checking her clock’s display, there were still at least twenty-five minutes before her parents returned, and then another thirty on top before they ate in celebration of Christmas. Humming under her breath, she let her fingers scratch one of Adrien’s ears before she took up her needles again.

It was coming together pretty well if she said so herself. Sure, there was nothing intrinsically special about it. No unique pattern or colors woven into it; it was the blue merino yarn alone making it. Soft against the skin, able to warm the wearer, but still breathe once the temperature began to rise again; yes this would be perfect. Marinette still wished she had it done sooner for the gift exchanges – not that she had anything for her parents either exactly, but she would make them something next.

Thinking about the gifts, her mind drifted to the clothes her parents purchased Adrien, and further wandered onto if the two of them should try being more presentable and not sitting at the table in their pajamas. Though, Christmas Eve mass called for attire that she wasn’t up for wearing right now. The less she saw of her skin the better. She couldn’t avoid her hands or fingers, but her arms and legs, her feet… sometimes it was difficult pretending not to see the mask in her reflection, but she did her best.

The LCD on her clock displayed twelve-thirty when Marinette finished the last row and held up her creation, giving it another look over. Not too long, not too short, and it should wrap around his neck enough to properly drape on his body. Smiling and nodding to herself, she folded it in her lap before picking up what remained of her yarn and tucking the needles inside, setting both out of the way. When it was time to get up, she would put them back with her other supplies, but she didn’t think that would be for a while.

Her bluebell eyes slid over to Adrien, hands picking up the scarf again. She opened her mouth, about to softly awaken him, but she paused when his ears flicked. Instead, she watched him turn his head away and press it against her cat pillow. When he turned back, his luminous green eyes were slightly open.

“Your parents are home,” he croaked, sounding ready to fall asleep again. However, instead of doing just that, he proceeded to push himself up, tired limbs trembling until he was sitting up properly. Again, she said nothing, staring instead as he raised a hand and rather childishly rubbed an eye with a fist, head drooping. A few slow blinks and he seemed to awaken enough when the knock came to her trapdoor.

_ “Marinette, Adrien! Dinner will be ready soon!” _

“Okay, Maman!” Marinette called back. Hearing the heel clicks disappear down the stairs, she turned back to Adrien, “I guess they left mass early. I wonder why…” He gazed back blankly and merely shrugged. She didn’t expect him to have an answer, but this gave them time. Thumbs rubbing the wool again, her smile widened – though, more in an apologetic grin than in confidence.

“I finished it.” And she felt him watch as she opened the scarf to its full length. His eyes opened more to take it in, a true smile coming to his face.

“It looks great Marinette,” he said, his encouragement bleeding into his words. “Whoever that scarf’s for is one lucky person.”

“Hm, it’s good to know you think that,” she giggled. He visibly tensed as she threw the scarf behind his head and brought it around, wrapping it once and letting the ends go so it rested over his chest. “Yup! It’s just right! How does it feel?”

But he didn’t answer. Blown eyes staring, he slowly dropped his head to look at the scarf she adorned him with, claws coming up to touch one of the hanging ends. Keeping his nails away, he rubbed with his pads, his oval pupils dilating in wonder. His mouth opened; he seemed to realize with the way his head snapped up.

“Marinette…?”

Pink lips curled upward and she leaned forward, bumping her forehead lightly against his, blue eyes gazing into his. Could he feel the heat that had risen to her cheeks? Half of her hoped so. “Looks like you’re the lucky recipient.”

“I… y-you made this for me?” He asked as though she hadn’t just been knitting right next to him. Saying nothing, she only continued to look at him, knowing that the redness in her cheeks would probably soon match the scarlet around her eyes. Puzzlement flitted over his face, and she swore his cheeks were suddenly darker. “You… mentioned this was going to be a birthday gift.”

“I guess at this point, it’s a Christmas present.” Closing her eyes, she pulled back from him before opening them again, taking in how he looked overall, and how he stared at her. She hoped his silence was a good thing. Raising her hand, she brought it up to the claw still frozen on the scarf and she laced her fingers with his. He still said nothing, and her heart began to sink, chin dropping and smile falling flat.

“You were going to make this for my birthday?”

His tone wasn’t angry. It was questioning, alight with wonder and anticipation. He wanted to hear her answer, but would he become mad upon hearing the truth? She already told him about the umbrella, but she hadn’t told him about her infatuation. And she was positive he hadn’t heard her the first evening they slept together here. Again, they’d been so close, but she still had to cover her face with her free hand, not wanting to know if her face had somehow surpassed scarlet to glow pink.

“T-That… it might have- but… I mean…” Marinette groaned, knowing that it shouldn’t be this  _ hard _ . “… I-I thought it would be a nice gesture after our first meeting, and then you lent me your umbrella… and I never returned it – uh, it’s in the closet if you ever want it.”

“Maybe later?” He squeezed her hand; that managed to help her breathe – not really, but it was the gesture that counted.

“… I bought a magazine that featured your most recent interview,” she sighed. “It had your birthdate in it so… yeah. Though, you probably get a lot of birthday gifts...”

If she hadn’t been holding his hand, she would have missed him flinch. A cold chill settled in her stomach. He didn’t have to say anything more, but he did.

“Father didn’t accept any fan gifts unless they were screened, and even then, usually the only gift I received would be from Chloé.” The smile he wore turned bitter, her hand dropping from her face and she listened in disbelief. He didn’t look back at her. “Meanwhile, his gifts for the last few years have been pens his assistant has given me. But this year…” The claw woven with her fingers shook. “Happy birthday to me, right? It’s funny… I used to dream of having awesome powers… slipping out of the manor, doing something else with my life that would be away from that place. If this really was my dad’s gift, I can do without having it. I would trade it for something smaller… like a family meal again even if it’s just the two of us.”

Silence fell between them, but their hands remained bound together. It felt like her throat was blocked, but she didn’t know what to say in order to comfort him. Adrien said nothing more, his head remaining low and eyes refusing to look at her. They weren’t glossy, but eerily vacant; not even when he was blind did the sight jar her so much. She never understood why kind people like him had to suffer miserable lives, but this only strengthened her resolve. Warmth bubbled in her fingertips, but she ignored it, moving closer to him to rest their temples together and let her eyes close. Any luck she had, she would want to will it to him, but all she could do was comfort him and remind him she was still here. If he needed to hear her heart beating again, she would let him listen.

A knock at her door had them coming apart after a few minutes and the odd heat in her fingers retreated, leaving a tingling sensation in each digit.

“… I can’t promise you dinner with your dad, but you’re part of our family here.” Blue eyes darted to his face, and she caught his pupils still down, but now gradually shifting her way. “It’s not going to make up for those days you’ve had alone, but let’s start working on that. Every night, we’ll have dinner together. Of course, Maman and Papa will have their date nights, but I will always be with you. And one day, when Hawkmoth isn’t looking for us anymore, we’ll have a big meal with everyone.”

Giving her a curious head tilt, he asked, “Who would 'everyone' be?”

“Hm… Well, who would you want 'everyone' to be?”

Adrien raised his head more, blinking slowly. She could’ve sworn the question practically bewildered him. And while she wouldn’t mind waiting to hear his answer, a second knock came at the trapdoor.

_ “Adrien! Marinette! The food will get cold!” _

“We’re coming, Maman!” Marinette called back. Sliding towards the ladder, she pulled him along, taking the first steps down the ladder's steps so he could get off the bed. She had to let go of his hand so they could both get down, but once they were on her main floor, she saw him adjusting his scarf awkwardly as though debating whether or not to leave it on. For her, it was still no time to worry about it, walking over to her door and pulling it open.

Her room was immediately assailed by warm orange and yellow lights, and came accompanied by the most wonderful scent of roasted turkey and chestnuts. Garland and fairy lights decorated the stair’s handrail both of them descended, spiraling from the top to the bottom and leading their eyes down to her parents waiting at the bottom, the two still dressed up from mass. Marinette beamed and hurried down the final few steps to hug them tightly.

“You two came back early. Isn't church still in session?”

“It is, but we didn’t want to leave you two alone for too long. It’s Christmas and all of us should be together,” Tom said, his mustache crinkling when he smiled. Raising his hand from Marinette’s shoulder, he waved it, “Come on. You don’t need to linger on the stairs, son.”

Turning to look over her shoulder, she saw Adrien frozen halfway up the stairs. Again, he was giving them space, but Tom’s hand extended towards him, trying to coax him to join, made his eyes widen. His cat-like eyes moved from Tom, to Sabine, and lastly, came to Marinette as though confirming it was okay. Her smile spreading further to a bright grin, she nodded, holding out her hand to him, too. “Come on, Adrien!”

She watched, and her parents watched, as seconds ticked by and the blonde remained on the steps. It felt like she was holding her breath when he took the first step, excitement rising at the second and third. He needed time, and they were giving it to him. And when he took that last step where she could pull him into a hug, her mother and father enclosed them both in the middle. Of course he tensed, but it didn’t take so long for him to sink into their hold, quietly seeming to relish in the shelter the three of them provided. His troubled expression was gone, melted into a calm bliss. Marinette sighed and closed her eyes, content by the love and warmth herself. “Merry Christmas.”

Maybe things would get better from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, looks like my beta has convinced me to go easy on ya'll. Instead of the abrupt dip next chapter, we'll go down this hill with some gaining speed. Next chapter, WE HAVE MAJOR PLOT PROGRESSION! How much will be exposition? Gonna try avoiding that.
> 
> Let's talk about something else... right, chapter relevant things. While I do not wholly think Tom and Sabine might be Catholic (children's show. Sometimes religious views can make things complicated), sometimes attending services can bring ease to people's hearts during hard times no matter what you believe in/don't believe in/etc.. Considering the months they had, I could see them going for themselves, and to offer some prayers for other families who may have lost family and friends.
> 
> Now, Christmas in France. I kept having to check and check and I'm still not sure. It's a really, really big holiday season in France and some places begin Holiday celebrations apparently as early as the 6th. There are markets, parades, and songs... and yes, there's mistletoe, but we're focusing on Christmas Eve. There's aforementioned midnight mass, gift exchanges and opening, and Le Réveillon de Noël, a meal eaten Christmas Eve or early Christmas morning, with everyone at the table. Some sites say this meal is eaten at midnight or after Christmas mass (depends on if you attend really), real point is being together. Of course, I'm open to this being corrected if there's some information that's wrong! Holiday traditions are way more complicated sometimes than what only a week's research can really cover!
> 
> As a personal note to the information released for the Christmas special... has it really only been a year? I'm just curious because the way Adrien speaks at his birthday, then Mrs. Agreste was allowing Gabriel to give his son pens for a while. I don't know, something feels off...
> 
> Well, that's all for now! Please leave kudos, comments, and subscribe! See you in the next chapter!


	5. Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were bound to go outside eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir was created by Thomas Astruc and Zagtoons, Inc. Please support the official release.
> 
> Beta Reader: [PocketNoivern](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketNoivern/profile)

Adrien was used to a life of living indoors. Ever since things had changed at home – his original home - he had become used to remaining only in the manor. His father, once a kinder man, became cold and paranoid of the world. He refused to let Adrien out of his sight; or more, out of his room. And at first, he hadn’t argued against this. Depressed as he had been, trying to recover from their loss, he had been willing to obey, to do anything that would make his old father return to him. But the days became long and empty, and the only contact he had with his father had been through his assistant, Natalie.

It was only because she managed to be sympathetic to his situation – to his father being occupied all the time – that day when he snuck into public school, she had been willing to try negotiating with her father. That negotiation only lasted for a week because of his foolish desire to  _ try _ pleasing his father, but at least he had a taste. He had an idea of finally doing something for himself and not just for the sake of seeing his father be his father again.

That’s why, while lying down bundled within Marinette’s comforter on the chaise, he only watched the girl pace around the room anxiously. It had progressively been getting worse after New Years’, the holidays having distracted her from their reality. Sure, they were home, but because of their mutations and uncontrollable powers, they couldn’t go outside. It was still mainly him though. If he didn’t have his outbursts that required her to be physically present, it was only a matter of hiding her skin. Sweaters could do that. Her hands? And her face? She could always claim it as a unique medical condition that wouldn’t go away.

On the other hand, him? Ears, tail,  _ fur _ , and he didn’t know how to play off clawed gloves and make it sound plausible. And then, there were his eyes. While he could still make out where his human irises were, his sclera were lime green, and his pupils were vertically oblong. Contacts would cover his pupils, but not his sclera. Three hours had been their limit of separation in the facility apparently, but he didn’t want to risk finding out if it had lengthened or shortened. So, they were stuck here due to limitations – due to him, but… for once, he didn’t think it was entirely just him.

Across the street, school had resumed and Marinette began to stare out the window. She watched when the students walked up the stairs and when they left for lunch. Both of them could hear the voices of their once fellow classmates if they sat in the living room or kitchen, but they had to be scarce so no one recognized them. Marinette would continue watching when school was let out for the day. Sometimes, he caught her staring at cars passing by, at friends laughing on the sidewalk, and also, she would gaze longingly towards the people in the park across the other street. She wanted to go out, but she was always looking at her hands and drawing away from the window with a sigh before resuming her pacing.

Yes, he was sure of it.

Marinette was scared. Not that he blamed her; this was their reality. If they were to go outside, that meant risking drawing attention to themselves, getting caught, and going back… there. Still, they couldn’t remain inside – not forever. Time would pass, and humans didn't live forever. Even if they could not be cured, they had to attempt venturing outside either by their choice, or being evicted. If they had to, they had to know, and be prepared to run. Eyes darting to the hatch above her bed, he considered while she stared outside again, and planned.

He waited until after dinner and they bid her parents goodnight. Marinette still restlessly moved about the room while Adrien looked out the window, noticing the lack of vehicles and pedestrians at this time. He watched for a few more minutes, eyes narrowed when he made out some teenagers in the distance, but they didn’t come towards the bakery or remain anywhere visibly near. This would be fine so long as he checked ahead.

“… Marinette, let’s go outside.”

He heard her pacing stop, and felt her eyes boring into the back of his head. He didn’t need to look to know they were wide, feeling how the tension in the room shifted.

“Adrien, we can’t.” Turning his head, she wasn’t looking in his direction anymore. Instead, her head was bowed and she fidgeted with her fingers. “If we step out and get spotted… it’s just too risky.”

“During the day it’s risky, but it’s late…”

“Adrien…”

He walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He could see her eyes staring at them and slowly, they rose to meet his own. “It’s dark out. There’s no one nearby and it’s overcast. We won’t go out the front door, but we’ll go out on your terrace and that’s as far as we’ll go unless you’re okay with going farther. Then we’ll only stick to the rooftops.”

She didn’t say anything, gazing up at him with slightly wider eyes. Not once had either of them gone out the hatch since being here and they neglected it. But now, there was an allure to possibly slipping out, to have more fresh air than merely opening a window without having to look both ways. Sure, if they did go outside, he would listen for trouble and make sure no one saw them, but this way, they wouldn’t; at least, not easily. If they were spotted, they would be gone in an instant. But he waited for her answer, hand still resting on her shoulder as he watched her thoughts, saw the emotions as she considered pros against cons, through the very windows to her soul.

When she blinked, he lost track. Her fingers twisted as she sighed.

“Just… maybe for a minute. And only after you make sure no one it around!”

His ears rose fully to point. She was nervous, but he would make sure she had nothing to worry about, even giving her a hopefully reassuring smile, “Of course, My Lady.”

“O— What?”

He felt his own eye sockets bulge, shocked at the words that came out of his mouth. Not really sure where that came from, he opted to darting for her ladder and swiftly slipping onto her lofted bed. Below the rooftop hatch, he rose still hunched with both ears flicking as he raised his hands to push it open. Besides the creaking of neglected hinges, he listened and sniffed for anything that might be off. Footsteps, hushed whispers, maybe even the crack of a radio or headset like in a suspense film, but he only heard tires as vehicles rumbled in the evening and smelled the rising exhaust fumes among other scents both pleasant and sickening. Fortunately, the bakery’s chimney left the roof with a potent odor from a hard day’s work, familiar sweet scents of warm rolls helping Adrien slowly creep onto the terrace properly.

Keeping his body low on all fours, he silently prowled, carefully peering through the bars of the iron guardrail on the far end. He trailed around, crawling onto the ledge, peering over the edge only after straining his ears for footsteps.  Watching a car rumble along, he didn’t see anyone walking along Gotlib at this time. Turning with one more glance over his shoulder, he stood and approached the hatch, opening it.

“All clear.”

Marinette was already there sitting on her bed, patiently waiting for his word. It always amazed him how much they had come to trust each other. Reaching down with a hand, she didn’t even hesitate to accept, letting him pull her up. With both feet planted, he grinned and stepped aside for her. While she walked around the small area, he observed, noting the empty planters and faded decorations. No doubt this must’ve been a frequented space for her before. Well, if they continued having ventures up here, maybe they could fix it up, but then he cringed, considering how the sudden appearance of new plants would draw attention.

Sighing, he paced, glancing over at Marinette still standing a polite distance away from the railing. It was nice to be out, seeing the lights again contrast to the night, but now they were out, he did want to go further than the terrace. Mindlessly wandering, his claws brushed against brick – the chimney now cold with the fires below out. He did it without thinking, but he felt his feet kick.

“Adrien!? What are you doing?”

Blinking, he found himself having to look down – further down. “I...” he trailed, ears pulling back. When did he jump on the chimney? “… I guess I wanted to go higher.” He leapt back down, ears still low. Her heart was beating fast. He didn’t mean to scare her. Quietly, he expected her to insist they go back down, that he might have compromised their first venture outside and made it their last in barely a minute. When she said nothing, he almost mewled. Kneeling down, he grabbed the hatch. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to jump up there… I messed up. If you want to go back inside--”

“Actually…”

His mouth snapped closed and he froze. Actually?

“… It was obvious I wanted to go outside, wasn’t it? I bet you wanted to come outside for a while, too.” Did she expect him to answer? It felt like she was staring at him again. Swallowing, he nodded sheepishly, but remained silent. Maybe she felt like he coerced her falsely into this and betrayed her trust? He didn’t mean to. Opening his mouth to apologize, he blanked at the feeling of her hand combing his hair and fingers rubbing an ear. “Thank you. We can’t stay inside all the time, but I keep thinking we might get caught somehow. Even if it’s a stranger, I just imagine everything snowballing into a disaster.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” he interjected. “I mean, I’m scared of being caught and going back there again. Though, I think… I think we might have to start considering the future, and living like this.”

Her eyelids fell halfway, and her gaze became distant. His ears, standing half folded, dropped flat again. Adrien needed to work on his timing, but her grim expression meant she probably already knew and thought about this. He wondered what else she had been thinking about, knowing that they should talk more. They seemed to be internalizing more from each other as of late, and he again wondered if it was just reflective of their isolated living. Mentally, he made a note to try getting her to open up more and to open up to her.

A gentle pinch on his ear had him flinch and raise his head.

Marinette was looking down at him, her gaze almost expectant. “I’m getting an odd feeling… it’s not ‘we’re being watched’, but something’s out there.”

Ears now pricked to attention, Adrien shot to his feet intent on listening and even juggling around the idea of seeking the problem himself, but Marinette’s hand seizing his wrist halted him. “Wait! It’s not bad, but I think we should follow it and find out.”

“… Ah, so you’ll be guiding me again?” he asked. A single nod from her was all he needed for affirmation. It made him grin, “Okay. It’ll be faster if I carry you. How would you preferred to be carried?”

“On your back with do,” she nearly squeaked, and he remembered the few times he bridal carried her before.  Piggyback might be better for them in case he needed his arms and hands. So, with a short turn on his heel, he knelt with his back to her, and remained still as she made herself comfortable. Okay, though, feeling her press against his back, maybe he should reconsider, but her legs were already pressing against his hips. Adrien breathed deeply and exhaled slowly to calm his heart rate. It wasn’t doing much when it came to ignoring how his fingers bunched up her pajama pants as he grabbed her thighs.

Clear mind; focus on keeping her safe and unseen.

“Which way first, My Lady?”

She seemed to tense behind him, but told him the direction in another second. “Alright. Hold on tight.” Even if he wouldn’t drop her – he would never let her fall – her holding on would make him feel better about this. They hadn’t been led wrong by her innate ability to seek things out yet, but there was always a first especially when their city could endanger them. He cleared the chimneys separating the bakery from the other town houses and landed softly on the flat rooftop adjacent. Adrien moved quickly, keeping in mind to slip behind other chimneys and assorted smoke stacks with the occasional risen ledge. He re-evaluated their surroundings at one point, hearing two men talking below and laughing, and waited for them to leave before leaping across the gape to the next roof.

“So… ‘My Lady’, huh?”

He skidded to the end of the next roof, glad to have his tail now to right his balance. He sighed in relief before color rose to his cheeks and his eyes looked back, “Ah… well, you call me kitten. I just… conceded to more or less being practically your cat in some way so you’re my ‘owner’? Is it too weird?”

“It’s… a little weird when you put it like that, but you are very cat-like.” He felt one of her arms unhook from his neck, and then her hand was in his hair. He purred faintly. “As long as you don’t forget you’re human… and don’t call me ‘owner’ ever again.”

He laughed, “Fair enough.”

Checking both ways, he sprung across the street and landed now on the roofs parallel, pausing when he caught a whiff of something.  While he wouldn’t call it a familiar scent, it registered mentally as soothing, much like Marinette’s scent or her parents. But why was the question. Why this peculiar minty aroma, and why did it stand out? He edged forward slower now, brows knitted in confusion when his eyes fell upon some corner store, the Chinese script reading ‘Master Fu’s Massage Parlour’.

He heard a gasp behind him, “That’s it.”

“That’s it?” he inquired, slightly angling his head back to Marinette to see her nodding hurriedly. It appeared closed, but if she said this was the spot, it took another sweeping scope of the area before he leapt down. Easing her back to the ground, Adrien watched as she approached the front door cautiously, following shortly with just as much attention to their surroundings. The closer they got, the more pungent that mint-odor became… the more he considered maybe laying down and curling into a ball.

“Hello—? Oh…” Marinette’s back met his shoulder, and he turned to notice the door had opened. Her bluebell eyes shot back to him, alarmed. “I just knocked…”

Shuffling closer, both of them peered inside. There was a staircase leading to the second floor, the walls covered by hanging scrolls with traditional Chinese art, but there was something strange about it still. Maybe the figures, but Adrien would look at them closer. However, that meant going inside…

“… Come on. We have to go upstairs,” Marinette whispered, taking the first step inside. Adrien shuddered. She was confident, but he still didn’t like this. He hoped this wasn’t breaking and entering. Reaching forward, he grabbed her hand to calm himself, the other reaching back to close the door behind them. Letting her lead them up gave him the chance to see the wall scroll – and his eyes widened at the black cat-like figured painted on the scroll. Did Marinette see that? That wasn’t even the only one; what was going on?

There was a single door on the first floor landing, and it was already open to them. Marinette’s hand clenched and Adrien snapped his head up, pupils narrowing. Sitting in the room on his knees was a young male garbed in a pale training robes, his pale hair glowing lime in the light coming in through the window. His meadow green eyes were locked on them, observing them closely while his tan fingers gripped his thighs. Minute tremors were visible every few seconds, but only when Adrien actually focused on his hands. Unnerved would be one way to describe the other male; serious would be the second.

“… Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he said firmly, startling them both, “Adrien Agreste, please, come in. My Master has been anticipating your arrival.”

“Your… Master?” Adrien’s ears pulled back and his hair rose. He didn’t know; was this still safe? His attention darted to Marinette and he caught her looking back, hesitant. He could see it though; she was still more confident about this than he was. Watching her, she exhaled and stepped into the room, pulling him inside. Together, the two sat down before the unknown man, and shuffling feet alerted them to another, older man’s presence. Dark grey hair, a red with white flower-print Hawaiian shirt and capri pants, the hunched elder closed the door and turned to them, chocolate brown eyes observing them sympathetically.

“I was wondering when you would come,” he mumbled, waddling around them to join the younger man sitting before them. He groaned as he lowered himself, crossing his legs and resting his hands upon his knees. “For your perception to overcome Wayzz now means it’s time.”

Adrien felt his heart rise in his throat. Marinette’s fingers slipped between his. Their hearts were beating faster. “Who… who are you?” Her voice was low and they were both holding their breath. The two of them knew, and Adrien felt his short fur bristling. If they turned out to be with Hawkmoth--!

“I am Master Fu…” the old man replied and dipped his head in a gentle bow. “You two… Hawkmoth forced your mutations for his desires. My student Wayzz and I are going to help you so he can no longer use your powers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many of you were probably wondering where Master Fu was... and not so much Wayzz. Well, here they are! PLOT PROGRESSION! Also, Adrien, do not start fights... right now. BUT who's ready to learn more about their mutant conditions in the story? Because that'll be coming up next time so stay tuned!
> 
> Alright, now, a few thiiings. While working on this chapter, I made the really slow discovery of having no idea what's on the first floor of the Dupain-Cheng home. Certainly makes the guest room idea more plausible, but holy crap how did I not see that? I mean, going up, you have the bakery, this first floor, the second floor with their kitchen and living room (and another room where I placed the bathroom), and then Marinette's room, and the only reason I spotted this was because we only see those two floors and I was staring at the stairwell for some reference while becoming very confused. Just... duh, I'm not being observant again. Ahhh...
> 
> Besides that, yes, currently the time is non-descriptive again, but it's pass New Years' now. Not sure if I want to make this before or after February either, but most likely? I didn't really have a Valentine's Day chapter planned so I might say we're now in Mid-February or Early-March, shortly after Winter Holiday break for Paris' schools in 2017. Not that time is too important, but I need to occasionally note it just to keep in mind the season, weather, etc. like that somewhere. Also, to keep in mind how longer Marinette and Adrien have been turned, and how long Hawkmoth has been looking for them. Just saying, it's been about six months for them now.
> 
> Well, off to work again! Please leave kudos, comments, and subscribe! See you in the next chapter!


	6. Mutants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We've been called gods... but we have also been called demons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir was created by Thomas Astruc and Zagtoons, Inc. Please support the official release.
> 
> Beta Reader: [PocketNoivern](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketNoivern/profile)

“You can help us with our powers?”

She couldn’t believe it…

Really, she didn’t know if she should believe that. If it was possible to help them, why didn’t Master Fu come to them instead? What if they had been caught before now? What if Adrien didn’t suggest they go outside? There were so many factors, but how could he seem so sure they would have eventually arrived? Beside her, she could still sense Adrien bristling, but not as much as a few seconds prior. Being closed in had alerted him, and she had to hold him just to make sure he didn’t attack Master Fu, or his… student. The younger male hadn’t given them a name, but Master Fu had called him Wayzz. However, Adrien’s irritation was infectious, or passing onto her just like everything else did.

“… Why now? Why didn’t either of you come to us?”

Marinette knew she could be calmer in this situation. Meeting with people who could help the two of them, a good first impression might be ideal, but how could she not be angry? Sure, coming during the holidays would have been less ideal, but it had been over a month since. If they had known; if they knew  _ how _ to help…! She was trembling, but she tried to calm down. Her own frustrations might push the agitated boy next to her to snap.

“We could not come by your bakery openly. It would have drawn Hawkmoth’s attention if we arrived so soon after your return, with Wayzz being the reason none of us have been uncovered,” Master Fu explained, a hand idling stroking his beard. “Besides that, if either of us visited already aware of your conditions, what would you have assumed?”

Marinette bit her lip, feeling her vehemence deflate. Her eyes again glanced towards Adrien who was settling down himself, but still leering at Wayzz. She ducked her head and timidly replied, “We… we would have assumed you worked with Hawkmoth.”

“Yes. It is only fair you two are wary,” Master Fu conceded. “The mutation process is not meant to be experienced the way you two suffered if it was to be experienced at all.”

“Wait, are you suggesting I probably never would’ve become like this?” Adrien asked, head snapping towards Master Fu as he gestured to himself. Glaring at Wayzz could resume later; though, now that he wasn’t tensed up so much, Marinette found herself calming down further. His outburst had raised another point – the fact they possibly wouldn’t have mutated and come to look as they did. She felt her heart sink at Master Fu’s next nod and she felt Adrien’s fingers curl tight, gripping her hand almost painfully. Chocolate eyes glancing to his right, Wayzz caught Master Fu’s look and nodded.

“Throughout history, there have always been mutants… The powers they were born with, or awakened in times of dire need, allowed these individuals to perform miraculous feats,” Wayzz calmly began, still fairly apprehensive. “People who bore witness to their abilities in ancient times often considered mutants descendants of gods, or even gods themselves, but as the world developed and changed, those like us became less honored. Demons, witches, monsters, every society in the world has a different name for us, but most of them consider us a vile and untrustworthy kind who had to be dealt with.

“Though the superstition about us remains, the actual discovery of mutations and the powers associated are fairly recent with scientists attempting to code these genes to this day. They need subjects, but most of us awakened at this point hide ourselves because of those like Hawkmoth.” Letting out a deep breath, the green-eyed man suddenly appeared tired. “It doesn’t stop them, however. Every human has these genes lying dormant, and each can be activated through alternative means if there’s someone willing to try.”

His fingers curled again, and Marinette wondered why he hesitated to speak. Still, with a swallow, he did continue elaborating. “Before I came to reside with Master Fu, I was pursued by my country’s military. I had not mutated, but my medical records had revealed my dormant gene. My powers, which are meant to protect and can shield others from detection, would have been used against my own people to further control them and potentially wage wars.”

Shuddering, Marinette didn’t want to imagine what it would’ve been like, or how it felt to run away from his homeland. His words made her understand what Master Fu meant though – about her overcoming his ability to hide when he should be able to prevent their detection. She didn’t know how she did it specifically because she didn’t even try looking for Master Fu or Wayzz. Adrien said they needed to talk about living with their mutations and their future which she had been doing for some time after the holidays, and all she had thought about was there had to be some way to better their condition.

“Marinette, have you realized it? How you two have come here now?”

Her head snapped up, large eyes open and locked with Master Fu’s across from her. Her mind whirled, and slowly, she nodded, “We came here by chance. I wasn’t looking for either of you. I wanted to find a place where we could possibly get help.”

“Yes… and you found us by luck,” Master Fu said knowingly. Wayzz flinched and bowed his head while Master Fu spoke, “Wayzz’s powers cannot stop fortune from aiding you, and it’s by using your ability to manipulate fortune that Hawkmoth intended to achieve his goal. However, what that goal ultimately is, I do not know.”

“Fortune? For his goal?” She didn’t understand how someone could  _ use _ fortune since it was an arbitrary force. However, she had been using something, but so far most of her actions had been unconscious; driven to help them survive. There was something to consider – the multiple times after Adrien and her began living in the same cell, they began taking her to that room and hooking her up to a weird machine to drain that red light out of her. “Was that what he was taking from me?” she mumbled, unsure. Cat ears flicked in the corner of her eye, and she noticed Adrien shift, but she didn’t turn to see his expression. Instead, her attention was on Master Fu as she inquired, “What about Adrien? Why was he forced to mutate? What about his powers made him have to be involved?”

“One moment... We’ll need tea for this.”

Marinette knew their conversation was already lengthy and it was very late, but tea? Brows furrowed, she only watched Master Fu rose up to his feet and walk out of the room. When he was out of sight, she sent a questioning look to Wayzz who merely nodded back once. “It would be rude as hosts to not provide refreshments if we are to continue this discussion so late.”

She conceded to this fact with a sigh and slight bobbing of her head. She didn’t know if there would be any other time for them to come here, and didn’t want to sneak out too frequently or trying to sneak over on evenings where the nightlife would be even more active such as Friday or Saturday. Thoughts continue to swirl, a faint, but distressed rumbling drawing her attention over to Adrien again. He sat stiffly, his free claw scratching uneasily at the mat the three of them sat upon. Her eyes noted worriedly how the moss tone matting began to practically burn black as the usual corrosion began spreading. Reaching across herself and him, she grabbed his other hand before it got worse, feeling the power briefly sting her palm. Eyes snapping to her, her fingers had to squeeze down when he attempted to pull away several times. His gaze reflected terror darting down to their connected hands, and then he released a relieved sigh, but she didn’t know what he expected. Marinette tried to meet his gaze again, but he was already looking away.

… Was he not telling her something?

“Here we are…”

Two tea cups were placed before herself and Adrien with two more soon being set down: one for Wayzz, and the other for Master Fu who took his seat again before her. Her Maman always gave her tea to calm down. Maybe he had noticed Adrien becoming stressed the longer they discussed their changes. Gently, she encouraged him to pick up his tea, bringing his hand close to the ceramic cup and have a sip. When he refused to grab, she instantly considered he must still be worried about his power breaking the china. Thumb rubbing his knuckles, she released the hand previously scratching and picked up the cup for him, bringing the warm minty beverage to his lips so he could sip. It seemed to do the trick, and she felt the intense grip on her other hand loosen.

Pulling away from the cup, she set it back down as he whispered his thanks.

“Now then… Adrien,” Master Fu picked up the discussion as though it hadn’t been interrupted. When he was addressed, Adrien paid attention, but said nothing to avoid interrupting the older man. “Your power too deals with fortune. However, where Marinette controls good luck, you are the opposite, and necessary to balance out her own powers. Though…” He gave the blonde boy a look over again, his expression troubled, “I never knew the physical state could become this advanced. Wayzz?”

But the green-haired youth shook his head, “No. It should not be like this, Master. However, he was taken first.”

“Then they changed him without… hm.” Master Fu tapped his chin, shaking his head slowly. Marinette would like it if the two of them would just spit it out and not leave them both in the dark, but now she was being impatient. Adrien, who was still mildly agitated, was nowhere near the level he had been before and did not insist they continue. It baffled her how he did so, but she watched, and imitated his deep breaths, feeling her rushing heart quell as she waited for more to be explained. Even if she drank very little of her tea, its scent helped each breath.

“Mutants with your abilities are meant to develop your powers together. With fortune, all it can take is a desire for a solution and it will be granted, and in some instances, created. However, where there is fortune, it must be weighted by misfortune; there must be a balance.” Marinette blinked, and remembered those times in the forest where she had been incredibly lucky to find anything – shelter, berries, and the very path they needed to take in order to get home. When Master Fu gestured over to Adrien, her attention followed. “That is where Adrien comes in. The misfortune you would draw as consequence goes to him instead, empowering him so he could turn that power upon others, stripping away their fortune to protect his other half through destruction – in this case, you, Marinette.”

Bluebell caught the emerald gaze this time, and both teenagers stared at each other.

“Hawkmoth was lucky… or perhaps, Adrien was lucky for Hawkmoth to find you in his time of need. You two were born to mature together if the time ever came.”

How should she be feeling at this revelation? Excited? She had already planned on trying to befriend him before. But if this was intended, maybe unsure was better. Already she knew she loved him, but were those her true feelings, or being caused by her mutation? Maybe she shouldn’t think about this right now and concentrate on what else was being said.

“Hawkmoth has pushed Adrien beyond his naturally intended mutations… By handling him first, his body absorbed both energies in the absence of his dual half. This unbalance has unfortunately left permanent effects on his body and mind as a result, but we can still have you two complete your mutations as you would have which will allow you both relatively normal lives again. In order to do that safely, you both must return to this shop for two times a week so we can aid you through it.”

They were staring at each other again. Her ability may have brought them here, but there was no guarantee it was actually safe. Still, what other options did they have? Biting her bottom lip, she steeled her eyes, knowing that they had to try. If it might help them – if it might help Adrien even a little – she would trust Master Fu and Wayzz. Watching his ears rise, she watched the same resolve come to Adrien’s face as well, his forehead creased, and a grin on his lips.

“Master Fu,” she started, her head turning back to the two sitting before them again, “and Wayzz… we want our lives back. Please, help us.”

* * *

They chose not to tell her parents about their escapade out or their arrangement with Master Fu and Wayzz.

Two times a week – Monday and Thursday – once their good nights were exchanged and after Adrien determined her parents were asleep, they would head off for their appointment. Learning just how advanced Adrien’s developments were, Marinette recognized her own were far behind by comparison. The sessions, should they still choose to proceed, would begin with catching her up, and Master Fu left them one week for their final decision. They returned home in high spirits, but those faded upon dropping into her room, the realization of the unknown future they agreed to settling in their minds. It had to be the most fitful sleep Marinette had in awhile, her dreams invaded by visions of their powers going awry, of the two of them being deceived by Master Fu and Wayzz, and Adrien becoming the monster that people feared them to be. He almost lost control before, and whatever they were about to be put though could end up pushing whatever self-control still remained.

She didn’t want that.

Adrien tried to reassure her in the morning and throughout the day, but the thoughts refused to stop plaguing her mind. They had time, but ‘what if’ continued to echo from both sides.

“Marinette…”

Raising her head from where she sat on the couch in the living room, her mother stood before her with something small and white presented in hand that Marinette hadn’t seen in ages. Her cell phone was just as she remembered – well, almost. There was a small chip on the casing, but that must have happened during the struggle. Cocking her head, she curiously looked back at her mom smiling before her.

“You’re trying to bear the burden alone again. Remember you don’t have to,” her voice cooed, placing the phone in Marinette’s hands. The gentle palm upon her shoulder, she stared, blinking once at the dark screen reflecting her blue eyes back. “When you’re ready,” her mother continued, “Call your friends.”

She pressed a kiss on Marinette’s forehead before leaving to go back downstairs to help with the evening crowd. Thumb stroking the screen, she was staring for a few minutes at the glowing lock displayed when another weight settled down beside her and a familiar head bumped her own. His comforting purrs already reverberating out. Angling her head in his direction, she paused, and then steadily unlocked her phone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder wonder wonder what will happen next...
> 
> Well, no, I actually already know what's in store next chapter (which may be fairly long), and the next, and the roll down hill we are now going to take. Wayzz is also being tight-lipped about something buuuut that's later.
> 
> Back on topic, uuuugh, I need to work on exposition. Not everything has been laid out though; I mean, after all, how does Master Fu know Adrien and Marinette's powers work like this? And how does Wayzz know how their mutations should be? Things that will be answered in due time; there are still nine chapters planned for this part. And to those of you who have been curious about Marinette's lack of mutations... well, coming soon, hehe.
> 
> However, there might be a delay in chapters?? I hope not, but it's the holidays and while I want to bust these out, I have a Secret Santa gift to deliver next week, general family things, and another Zine to work on (Persona 4 this time) that's due January. Also, that doesn't only apply to me, but my busy beta reader too. I'll do what I can to remain on schedule, but if there's a hold up for any chapters for the next two months, those are the reasons... along with a preview of another potential story with fantasy elements instead.
> 
> That's all for this chapter then. As always, please leave kudos, comments, and subscribe! See you in the next chapter!


	7. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien sleeps, but he could not dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir was created by Thomas Astruc and Zagtoons, Inc. Please support the official release.
> 
> Beta Reader: [PocketNoivern](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketNoivern/profile)

She didn’t make the call in the end.

Both before dinner and after, she had repeated the same action Adrien observed. Marinette would unlock her phone, open her contact list, and let her thumb hover over the call button but never place the call. He wondered what she was thinking, aware that her mind tended to be her own enemy, imagining the worst-case scenarios instead of showing more positive conclusions. At the present time, she had to be imagining what would happen if she called Alya. Instead of considering how supportive the other girl would be, Marinette probably assumed her best friend would freak out, expose them online, and have them get captured by the government instead of Hawkmoth, whichever one sounded worse.

He wanted to think otherwise.

Sure, he hadn’t known them long, but he knew they bonded pretty fast over the gum incident. And while he managed to recall Alya’s apparent fascination with superheroes and related topics from his past observations, she didn’t seem like the type of person who would out a friend online. Or maybe he still had too much faith in people – at least, their kindness to each other. If they could be fixed, and if he could go home, he didn’t know how to feel about it. He would still be a mutant with permanent marks left on him, and he doubted his father would be pleased to hear that. As the once face of his company, Adrien anticipated resuming modeling with necessary cover-ups and the return of private tutors. Once Gabriel found out what happened, he would not be allowed to go outside, and everything would be done so the world never knew the Agreste heir had been missing in the first place. Heck, the world didn’t know right now he wasn’t home. He wondered what the lie was this time.

It was at times like this he wanted to be back in Marinette’s room and curled up on the chaise or her bed with her, but this needed to happen eventually. To respect her parents and her own personal space, Adrien moved into the guest room on the first floor. It felt far, but it was still near compared to certain prior living arrangements. This room lacked her scent though, and didn’t have her warm presence, but nor was it expansive and empty. There was a twin bed with a soft comforter and sheets that he found no issue bundling up beneath and a dresser for his new clothes, and a small bookshelf in the room housed Dupain-Cheng favorite novels and old cookbooks, several notable ones written by family members themselves. Décor in the cramped space included old crayon drawings and photos, and were Adrien in a better state of mind, he would gaze at them fondly and wonder what it was like having a large family so far apart, but still so close.

He wished he could be a part of it, but that was only a dream. His future was cold, filled with fame, lights, and emptiness, but he would go back if it meant Marinette was happy. He hoped she slept better tonight.

Turning the light off, the room glowed softly from the street lights shining through the window. Nothing that would particularly bother him as he closed the curtains and settled himself beneath bed sheets, slipping down until a portion of his chin was covered. He pulled the comforter a little higher, sinking into the plush, but secure feeling it provided. Taking several deep breaths, he slipped gently into tonight’s slumber, letting the day’s worries melt away.

His eyes opened at popping flashes behind his eyelids and squinted to see what the commotion was. He grunted, confused when he saw no reason behind the flash and instead noticed several large imposing lights were suddenly far too close. Groaning, he tried to roll over and shield his head again, but his body didn’t respond. Synapsis still firing slowly, he tried again, eyes opening wider at each failed attempt which became more fervent than the last. It came together – the sight, the smell, the cold against his arms – that he wasn’t in the guest room anymore.

How had they been found out? And if they had him, then they would have--!

Pupils thinned and eyes bulging, he almost ripped himself from the examination table and probably would have succeeded if the flashes didn’t blind him. Turning his head at another, he felt an ear flick. That sounded like a shutter being depressed. His mind whirled, disoriented and panicking as it tried to understand why they were taking photos. Documentation examples? Before and after snapshots? No, that wouldn’t make sense; he had already – no, he was still incomplete. Or so Master Fu had said.

_“Eyes open for the camera, Adrien.”_

_“Hold. Just like that… Next one, smile!”_

His confusion returned tenfold at the voices. Those didn’t sound like the scientists, but his father’s photographers. What were they doing? He was transformed and exposed; his father wouldn’t allow this! Pulling again at his restraints, he whimpered as they tightened further, straining his wrists and ankles, and cutting off blood circulation in all limbs.

_“Stop fussing, Adrien. M. Agreste is watching. Come on, we need that smile!”_

“… Dad?”

Adrien turned his head, vision momentarily blinded again as the camera went off. The lights still hurt, boring directly down on him, giving them what sort of lighting he didn’t know, but it physically ached straining to look beyond. However, with more patience and bursting flashes, he could see. Angular jawline, slicked-back blonde hair, and his mouth the ever expected thin line, his father’s harsh steel blue eyes stared back at him from behind the usual thick silver bifocal frames of his glasses. He didn’t say anything, but Adrien had picked up on reading the subtle changes to his father’s rather static expressions. After all, this was the man who always lectured him for revealing too much emotion. Gabriel just had to look, and Adrien felt his ears flatten.

The corner of his lips twitched, and he tried. His arms were numb, his feet were cold, but he felt himself smiling for the camera, afraid to disappoint his father any further. Adrien couldn’t see if his father’s expression had changed, doing his best to follow the photographers’ orders. What else could he do to make his father happy? This still wasn’t enough; his dad’s eyes were still piercing him.

“—Agh…!”

_“Don’t flinch, Adrien. Stay still…”_

But how could he upon feeling the needle being inserted into his arm. It should be numb, but the feeling was coming back like a flash fire. Red and black spots coated the syringe – the very same from that evening. Smile, smile, his mind was incessantly reminding him, but he could feel the liquid searing its path beneath his skin. He knew what was coming, his heart sinking in his chest while he began to tremble as the flames reached his shoulder. That’s when it started too; the prickling in his back where the spot burned into his skin and his fortune festered. It turned to clawing, gouging, and digging into his back with pulses racing to his head, and razors trying to cut their way out. His head swirled; he felt ill fighting back, trying to keep smiling as long as he could.

His brow twitched.

_“Adrien…”_

The gaze intensified – he messed up. His claws shook and scratched the table trying desperately not to scream, “F-Father… I’m sorry. Give me another chance.” He did his best not to writhe, but Gabriel’s voice was not dripping with any sympathy. Why should it? His son had messed up and may as well have ruined everything. He wasn’t modeling, he wasn’t with Hawkmoth, and he hadn’t returned home. He failed to meet any of his dad’s expectations.

The lights grew dim, and even when they finally went out, Adrien could not see anything. His limbs felt heavy, but then they were bound as the table disappeared beneath him. No longer could he remain calm when the fabric closed around him, legs trying to kick, but all he could do was squirm. There was nothing solid around him; he was sinking – water? It couldn’t be, but the further he fell, it became all he could consider. Panic flooded him faster than the pain before.

“L-Let me out! Dad, please! I’m sorry!”

Yowling when someone grabbed him, his claw somehow managed to rip free and he swung. There was a yell, and the rest of the bag trapping him disappeared, allowing him to bolt to the nearest corner with his eyes wide and manic. He blinked, and blinked again as the vision of feathers, ash, and three others came into sight, and he recognized them. That didn’t immediately make him come out of the corner though, his adrenaline pumping and claws still tense, but panic was swiftly washed away by dread.

The bed was gone, reduced to a pile of soot that only the comforter had somehow survived, but not by much. Feathers flew freely from the long rips now present in the blanket, but it still held together, possibly salvageable. However, that wasn’t the damage that held his attention for long and had his eyes shrink. Sabine and Marinette were inspecting five long claw marks dripping fresh blood over Tom’s right arm and the throw rug, and they weren’t kitten scratches. If Adrien was an outsider, he would assume a wild animal must’ve attacked somehow, but he could smell iron on his claws – he could _see_ it still moist on and under his nails, and on his fingertips.

“T… M-M. Dupain-Cheng,” he murmured, trembling from where he curled in the corner, and flinched when all three looked at him. Shock? Fear? Surprise… he doesn’t know because he’s breathing fast. Adrien’s vision became blurred by dots and everything seemed oddly hyper focused despite being washed out. It didn’t feel like he was there anymore, and his head was light. He tried to speak, and his lips moved, hopefully letting him get out ‘I’m sorry’, but he didn’t know if he stopped saying it. Both claws clutched the front of his pajamas and blood choked his nose. His face felt wet and his head knocked into the wall, breath coming out in shorter gasps.

_“—en! Adrien! I need you to listen to me!”_

Warm, sweet-scented hands clutched his shoulders and his head popped up, a swirling sight of red and black dancing before him. Although, the red and black faded to darkness as something shielded his eyes. Adrien’s panting seized and his entire body tensed.

“Easy… You’re panicking, Adrien.”

Blood pounding in his pointed ears didn’t keep him from making out that voice.

“Marin… ette?”

An arm wrapped around his neck and the hand kept his eyes covered, but he felt his head press against something soft and thumping. The ear adjacent flicked at the familiar ‘lub-lub’ of her heart beating. Slowly, her chest rose and fell, and Adrien found himself gradually coming to repeat her slow inhales and exhales, ebbing off his nauseating dizziness. Almost naturally, he began to nuzzle her chest with his head, familiar vibrations rising from his own chest now that he had calmed.

“You’re okay… It’s okay, Adrien.” Her voice was low, but still enough that he could hear it over his purring. He didn’t understand how any of this was okay.

“But… but I destroyed your guest bed and ruined the comforter… I attacked your father.” And frankly, none of that sounded okay. But Marinette still held him, slowly removing her hand from his eyes to pet his hair and ears.

“You were having a nightmare…” she answered, fingers combing through his blonde hair all the way to the tip. “And Papa’s going to be okay. You didn’t scratch too deep, and you already used your power on the bed. Maman’s bandaging his arm right now.”

He didn’t understand… he didn’t know why they would put up with him after this. He doesn’t recall overwhelming kindness like this since… her.

Beside him, Marinette was moving. His hands shot out and grabbed her before he could process his actions, shaking, “Please d-don’t…” But he trailed, realizing how selfish asking her to stay with him would be. If she wanted him to stay in here and try sleeping on the ash pile, he would. Loosening his grip, he started when she grabbed him, and pulled him to his feet. She said nothing, but just tugged him along, making him follow her out of the bedroom and up the stairwell to the second floor. They entered the living room and turned towards the stairs before the kitchen, Adrien ducking at the sight of M. and Mme. Dupain-Cheng. He just briefly caught the swath of white bandages wrapped around the burly man’s forearm.

“Maman, Adrien’s going to sleep with me tonight. How’s Papa’s arm?”

Adrien’s grip tightened and he waited for Mme. Dupain-Cheng to refuse letting him back into Marinette’s room. Maybe M. Dupain-Cheng would be the one to say it instead, maybe put him outside, but tell him to remain nearby. He needed to remain around Marinette so she didn’t stop moving, but he didn’t need to be inside to do that.

“Of course, Marinette. Try to get some rest you two…”

Mme. Dupain-Cheng was still so gentle.

“My arm’s fine! It’s already stopped bleeding.” M. Dupain-Cheng, why would he say that? “We’ll see you two in the morning!”

Adrien’s mind was whirling and he stared blankly. He remained despondent as Marinette guided him upstairs to her bedroom again, blinking to realize they were suddenly at her vanity, cleaning off the blood sticking to his claw. Another blink and she had her cozy rose comforter wrapped around them both, her lying right beside him, their foreheads almost touching.

“Come back to me, Adrien…”

But he wasn’t anywhere… at least, he didn’t think he was. Blinking a third time, he shook his head, confused at the concerned look Marinette was giving him. Her hands caressed his cheeks, combed over his hair, and scratched his ears. He began to purr again, and he watched as her smile returned. “You had me worried. You completely zoned out for a moment there…”

He thought he was still out of it, all things considered, because he had to be dreaming. He was still here…

“… Why?”

“Huh?” Her head cocked as much as it could against her cat pillow. Though her fingers stilled, it only distracted him for a second.

“Your parents,” he whispered. “I… I thought they would be angry at me. I thought they might kick me out, or at least, yell at me for what I did.”

“But… it was an accident,” Marinette interjected, her tone aghast. “We all heard you yelling. You somehow managed to destroy the bed and get wrapped up in your bed sheets. We thought you might suffocate if we couldn’t get you out.” Her fingers began rubbing an ear again. “When we managed to free you, your eyes were still closed. It was only after you backed into the corner were you fully awake.”

His hand trembled. He did remember the yell and staring at all three of them from the corner. It might’ve had a nightmare, but he still shouldn’t have done that. He was dangerous, and he didn’t know how he could be helped. The scientists might have been onto something suggesting that he would be locked away.

“… Adrien?”

His ears rose, and he looked up at her again, “Yes?” But, he had a feeling what she was about to ask from the way she shifted. When she had nightmares before, he had asked, and she had told him. It wouldn’t be fair if he couldn’t tell her. She trusted him, and he knew he could trust her. So, before she could speak up, he did. He told her about the bright lights and being in the room again, how they began to flash, and the scientists were actually photographers. She said nothing, listening silently as she told them how they wanted him to smile and how they injected him with that concoction again – the very same one that made him spill of his energy into her before. It wasn’t until he mentioned his father being there that her eyes opened wide.

“Why your dad?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, letting out a low breath, “I guess… I started thinking of home after Christmas and New Year’s. My mom’s favorite holiday was Christmas.” He felt his throat drying while he spoke, and he swallowed before going on, “It… it was the last holiday we all celebrated together before she went missing.”

Most people knew about his mother’s absence, but no one knew how or why. Adrien didn’t know, and if his father knew, he had never told his son. He shook his head. “I think I want to see him. I want to make sure he’s okay, but I don’t want to see him like this. I can take his disappointment and I’ll do whatever I can to see him happy again, but if I finished my mutations, I won’t be useful to Hawkmoth anymore. Neither of us will.”

He watched her chew her bottom lip, and quickly wanted to retract what he said. Again, their options were there, but her confidence was not. They might be willingly throwing themselves back into suffering. Things could go wrong – they could be like tonight, but worse. The thoughts haunted him too, but he was used to living inside should they decline Master Fu’s offer.  Marinette was not supposed to be trapped inside and hiding forever though. There was only one option that would let them possibly be out without fear.

“You should call Alya tomorrow,” he said suddenly, making Marinette flinch. It always hurt to see her curl up, or see the way her expression fell when only the worst scenario permeated her thoughts. “I know you’re scared… and I am too, but I think talking to someone else outside of the bakery - someone you’re confident about - it could help us make our final decision. We… both need that help.”

While she looked reluctant, she didn’t retort. It was now her own nightmares weighing against her confidence in her best friend. He’d push her in the right direction, accepting the fact that he would be locked up again as a result. He just hoped his dad wouldn’t be too angry.

“… Alright. I’ll call Alya tomorrow.”

He was halfway through a relieved sigh when she suddenly tapped his nose.

“But,” she started, “I think you should call Nino. I’ve told you before, he was worried. And… if I’m going to face Alya, you’re going to face him, too.”

He would be lying to say the thought didn’t send a shiver down his spine. While he could predict how his father would react, Nino’s reaction was a mystery. Would their one week friendship really be enough? But if it was the stipulation keeping Marinette from calling Alya, he would take the risk.

“Alright, but you’re calling Alya first. There’s… there’s something I want to do tomorrow… or try.”

Instead of providing an answer at her inquisitive head tilt, he instead bumped his head against her, needing her scent and warmth to help ease him into slumber and stave off anymore nightmares that might come.

* * *

When his eyes opened in the early hours of the morning far before the bakery unlocked its doors, Adrien felt another body pressing against his chest and stomach, and smelled the sweet floral scented wash waft into his nostrils. If he told Marinette she was adorable while she slept, would she be upset? Not that she wasn’t cute the other times they interacted, but being able to visibly see her at ease brought a different kind of calm to his heart. And he wished he could observe her longer, but he picked up on the sound of movement below and the faint scent of dough being baked in the patisserie’s kitchen.

He was ready to do this.

Slipping away from Marinette wasn’t simple. It was cold, and the urge to burrow under her comforter and cuddle beside again was alluring. Somehow, he managed to pull away and slip out, but he froze the second he heard her whimper. Frowning, he watched her shift, unconsciously seeking his now absent body heat, her brows creased and pink lips pouting. No, no, he looked towards the trap door, but then gazed back at Marinette. The low rumble building in his chest and throat, he pulled her bed sheets back up to her shoulder and leaned closer, allowing his abnormal instincts to take precedent over his usual behavior. His claws gently combed through her hair as his nose bumped against her temple only to move away so he could nuzzle against her cheek. Anymore discontent sounds she made soon stopped and he heard her breathe a soft sigh with slumber taking her again.

Pulling away with a smile, he slipped from her, creeping down her loft, and slinking out the hatch door with some clothes in hand. Lucky for him, the hinges didn’t creak, but he did almost yelp when the door came down on the tip of his tail. He contained the sound and wrapped the furred appendage around his waist, hurrying out of the kitchen before even Mme. Dupain-Cheng noticed him from the kitchen. He showered quickly and changed, making his way carefully to the ground floor, glad that his feline traits managed to keep his shoes from squeaking upon reaching the landing.

This was now the patisserie proper. If anyone bothered looking through the side doors, they would probably see him, but a double take would find he had slipped away. M. Dupain-Cheng looked up from the dough he presently kneaded, his bright, spring green eyes opened in surprise. Adrien stood still, fidgeting with his claws wringing his tail loosely as the door closed behind him.

“M. Dupain-Cheng…” he began, but paused, biting his tongue between his fangs as he considered what to say next, or how to properly say it. “I... I’m sorry that I destroyed your property and clawed your arm. Marinette said you noticed, but… I don’t think saying that my actions are because of a nightmare is really an excuse for what I’ve done.” First part clear and he still had Tom’s attention. That could be a good sign, right? “If you would let me, I wanted to help. Even if the marks are open, they’re probably sore… so please.”

Bowing his head, Adrien waited with baited breath to be dismissed and his apology to be brushed aside. However, the heavy hand clapping his shoulder had him almost leap off the ground. His head whipped up to see the baker looming over him, but smiling wide.

“You’re a good kid, Adrien. And you don’t have to apologize for last night… but!” Adrien was cut off before he could contest, and the blonde closed his mouth, ears lowering. M. Dupain-Cheng chuckled, “If you want to help me, you’re welcome to. Though, just to be clear, you aren’t shedding, right?”

“What? I’m not!” Adrien exclaimed, eyes widening at the deep belly laughed that rang loud.

“I was joking! But you’ll have to wear gloves if you’re going to mix ingredients!” Pulling away, Adrien found himself ushered to follow, accepting a pair of gloves when the baker retrieved them from a drawer. Staring at them, he looked back up to meet that beaming gaze. “Also, you just have to call me Tom. M. Dupain and M. Dupain-Cheng are too formal. Now, wash up in the sink and get those gloves on. We need to start making croissants before the morning rush gets here.”

M… Tom walked back over to his dough to finish preparing it, leaving Adrien standing there with a new feeling washing over him. His eyes stung and his mouth stretched into a wide smile.

“Right away!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did iiiit! I managed to get this chapter done between everything! And I'll have less stuff piled on to hopefully have the next chapter done soon. And I know you guys have been waiting for Alya and maybe Nino, and I promise they'll be in the next chapter! Promise promise super promise!
> 
> Now, let's talk about Gabriel Agreste. Do I think he's a cruel man? Not at all, he's a grieving man. One that grieves by withdrawing into himself and forgetting/trying to ignore the pain that comes to him every time he sees his son and how he looks like his missing wife. I doubt he means to purposely push his son away (especially going on the Christmas Special), but the abrupt mood whiplash must have startled Adrien who, in his own grief, wants to be able to connect with the only family he has left. People do things they might later regret as a result of their emotions. Of course, now you're wondering if Gabriel will be Hawkmoth in this or not, huh?
> 
> ... That's a secret to be discovered in Part Three!
> 
> Again, noting here possible delays for the holidays, but I'll try to remain on schedule. Just don't hold it against me if I miss posting on a Wednesday due to myself or my beta being occupied. Things happen at this time of year.
> 
> That's all for this chapter then. As always, please leave kudos, comments, and subscribe! See you in the next chapter!


	8. Phone Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She keeps thinking 'what-if'. But Adrien's right; Marinette trusts Alya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir was created by Thomas Astruc and Zagtoons, Inc. Please support the official release.
> 
> Beta Reader: [PocketNoivern](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketNoivern/profile)

Of the various methods that Marinette had been awakened before, she might list this as her favorite. Not that she would ever admit that because she liked sleeping too much, but it would be there mentally. Feeling his warm hand rest on her shoulder, rubbing it with the comforter between, and then the delighted rumbles that rolled from his body, that was enough to actually wake her, but she didn’t open her eyes. He probably already knew, but she was curious to see what the kitten would do next. She swore she actually heard him chirp shortly before she felt warm breath brushing her cheek and his nose pressing against her hair. He was nuzzling incessantly like any cat would when they wanted their human up, or wanted to demand pets without openly resorting to meowing. She figured Adrien would be the former, the warm, buttery aroma of a freshly prepared croissant nearby, and further tempting her to actually get up.

It was the lips brushing her forehead – accidentally? On purpose? – that finally made her opened her eyes and lazily raise a hand when she made out the blurred, but grinning face of one far too alert Adrien. Though, it took her a second to see it in his eye when her vision cleared a little more; that accidental slip into his actual feline personality where his eyes and ears responded faster than his human conscious. It happened, and he would be fine in another minute with her moving, but she could put one hand in his ear and reward him with a scratch in the meantime.

“Good morning…” she muttered, watching him close his eyes and sink lower to her bed. Maybe her fingers had hypnotizing powers because soon, it looked like Adrien might fall asleep. That would defeat the purpose of his morning call. Pulling her hand away, she giggled softly, watching him blink and flush in startled realization before pressing his face into her pillow. His voice was muffled, and she had to lean closer, grinning, “What was that?”

_“Em sed guh mornig…”_

“… Okay, no, I really didn’t catch that,” she hummed with a shrug. With a groan, he pulled back from the pillows, wide oblong pupils looking away and his face still bright red.

“I said good morning,” he grunted, ears flattening against his hair which she noticed was dusted by flour. Leaning closer, she noticed he smelled like someone dipped him in sugar, but she didn’t comment on it first. Instead, she brought her hand around, and tapped his nose with her index finger.

“You’ve been up for a while, haven’t you?” she whispered while fighting a yawn. Once it went away, she folded her hands near her head and wriggled as she stretched tired limbs beneath her warm bedspread. “What have you been doing?”

Her heart spiked when he grinned wide, showing off his fangs while his tail wagged behind him. “I was helping your dad in the bakery!” The pure elation that radiated off his body and smile warmed her far more than any blanket could. It helped her wake up faster just seeing him beaming; almost like last evening never happened. “He showed me how to make _Pain Suisse_ and _Pain au chocolat_ … I got to make _croissants_ , Marinette! I even brought you one for breakfast and some chocolate milk.”

He sprung up to all fours while she slowly crawled up to sit on her knees, hugging her comforter around her shoulders. Now that she wasn’t half-asleep, she really got a good look at him. There wasn’t only flour dusting his hair, but it looked like batter somehow managed to get onto his left ear with strands of hair sticking to it. Cream dotted his face and there was even more flour on his cheek and chin. What on earth happened in the kitchens? She covered her mouth before she snorted, Adrien innocently turning back to her with wide gleaming eyes. In one claw he held the plate with a slightly crooked croissant and the other supported the bowl containing chocolate milk.

“He let me try rolling this last batch,” he explained as she accepted the plate, “It’s not easy to roll dough with gloved claws.”

“Hey, it’s not like you did that bad…” Marinette encouraged, even though she did notice some spots where his claws must’ve actually stabbed the dough. She wondered what the gloves looked like. Raising her head, she saw him watching her intensely - maybe even holding his breath – while he waited for her to… oh. Well, she wouldn’t leave him in suspense after her teasing minutes ago. So, before her witness, she raised the roll to her lips, making sure to purposely bite where a puncture was. A few chews, and she noted how it was crispier, but nothing about it was spoiled. She swallowed and smiled, “It tastes good, Adrien. I’m sure if you work with Papa more, you’ll get the technique down.”

“I’m glad. I was actually thinking about helping him again tomorrow…” He still smiled, but his eyes became distant with his ears drooping. Sighing, she knew imagining what happened was only denying reality. Croissant and bowl aside, she took hold of his claws, and allowed her thumb to rub over his knuckles. She had washed them last night at her vanity, but she could still see the red no longer there on his nails. He had been so terrified and hyperventilating in the corner; and he remained mostly unresponsive until she got him to bed. After recollecting his nightmare to her and their subsequent discussion, she watched him slumber.

Marinette didn’t tell him, but he had cried again in his sleep. She lost track of how long she stayed up, but she knew that she only fell asleep after he stopped. His happiness really depended on the life and memories they made together now, and she understood what he meant by them needing help.

“Hey,” she finally spoke up, making him jolt away from looking at their hands. When their eyes met, she put on her best smile. “Just talk to Papa after the bakery closes tonight. I know he would love to have you bake with him again, Adrien.”

Though his eyes brightened and his mouth opened in a wide smile, he folded in on himself again barely five seconds later. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, “I’ll be with you, promise.” It looked like that did the trick because he smiled again albeit somewhat sheepishly, maybe embarrassed to be nervous around her father even after a whole morning with him. She couldn’t fault him for his fear considering how his father haunted him.

Letting go of his hands, she picked up her plate again. She had to finish eating her breakfast and prepare herself.

“Adrien, do you mind getting my phone? I think it’s by my computer…”

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, I can get it!”

He practically leapt off the loft and landed silently on her floor below, nearly made her choke. Well, she was expecting to have a little more time, but her stomach rolled, protesting as she dipped her breakfast in the chocolate milk and took another bite. She knew she had to do this – for both of them, but more for Adrien. His life being shut away meant he needed more contact than anyone with the outside world. If she could get through talking to Alya then he could do similarly with Nino.

But then why was the thought of the impending phone conversation going so far south in her mind? What if Alya thought it was a prank call? She would track the number, report it to the police, and they would be found. They would be on the news! Her parents would get in trouble with the public for keeping her a secret… no, they would get in trouble with Mr. Agreste for sure and sent to a high-security prison, and then he would take Adrien home. She would be on the run from Hawkmoth and die cold and alone in some ditch two cities over…

“Uh, Marinette?”

She covered her face with her hands, thoughts spinning again. She could see the broadcast getting it wrong now: Parents lie about Missing daughter. They would mistakenly say they had let Hawkmoth have her and think they kidnapped Adrien. Neither of them would have to worry about Hawkmoth then! It would be the government, and once their powers were figured out, both of them would be forced to become mercenaries or assassins, whatever was the most useful with microchips implanted in their necks to make them obey.

_“Marinette!”_

“AH!” she yelped, plate pitched into the air with half-finished croissant in accompaniment. Adrien leapt, catching the plate first and the croissant second as it came back down, tail curled around the milk bowl he had thoughtfully pulled away. She groaned, smacking her hands to her cheeks, “I did it again…”

“You did,” he affirmed, mouth thin. She chewed her own lip, face burning, ashamed that she continued having these moments around him. She didn’t watch him, but she heard him set her plate back down on her small bed shelf with a soft clatter. Willing herself to look back, she saw he was holding out her cellphone, and waiting for her to take it. “It’s okay to be scared, but you trust Alya. And if anything happens, we’ll figure it out.”

Turning his claw, he placed the phone in her palm; she, in turn, flipped it over to see the clock illuminate with her background. The time that glowed said school started just a while ago. If they were attending, they would be sitting in Mme. Bustier’s class on Literature with Alya and Nino. Ivan, Nathaniel, Rose, Juleka, Mylène, Alix, Max, Kim, Sabrina, and even Chloé, they would all be there. Even if she didn’t get along with everyone, she missed them.

“… If anything happens,” she repeated, wrapping her fingers tightly around the phone.

* * *

She wanted them to be able to go outside without fear…

She wanted them to be able to do more than hide…

She wanted them to be able to feel normal again…

They told her parents their plan before ascending to her bedroom again after dinner, and they slipped out onto the rooftop as Paris began to fall asleep. It was still twilight; it was beautiful, and she wanted to stop being scared of her city. Hiding in the corner, Adrien by her side, Marinette breathed in and out slowly as she scrolled through her contacts.

Alya Césaire – it looked like there were some calls placed to her, the last being dated back in December. Forehead creasing, she glanced towards the hatch, but shook her head. It was something she was about to find out. Lower lip between her teeth, she shut her eyes and tapped the call button with her thumb.

It dialed… it was ringing.

Adrien pressed against her side as she raised the speaker to her ear and listened for an answer.

 

_Brrr… Brrr…_

_… -click-_

_“Hello? Sabine? Is everything okay?”_

 

Marinette’s breath caught in her throat and her eyes stung. God, it had been too long since she last heard her voice. Her inability to respond gave her the minute she needed to realize Alya said her Maman’s name. Her parents must have been speaking to her while trying to cope. She made a mental note to hug them both again.

 

_“… Sabine? Tom?”_

 

“… H-Hey, Alya,” she croaked, and took a shuddering breath. When she didn’t get an answer, she decided to keep talking. “This isn’t a prank so please, don’t hang up. Though, if you’ve forgotten, I understand. The last time we spoke, it was October… i-it’s almost crazy how time flies like that.”

Her laugh was forced, but the tears were already rolling over her cheeks. She pressed the heel of her palm to her face, trying to wipe them away. The anxious body shifting next to her said Adrien wanted to do something, but he couldn’t – not yet.

“It might help if I said this is Marinette, wouldn’t it?” Alya hadn’t said anything, but hopefully she would before the rambling started. There was a sharp inhale on the other end so at least she knew Alya was still listening. She didn’t anticipate what would come next.

 

_“Okay, if you’re really who you say you are… what happened the first day we met?”_

 

It surprised Marinette how relieved that question made her feel. There was no immediate phone call to the police or suspicion that her parents had done anything – though, that second one had been an _extreme_ conclusion to jump to she supposed. With a smile, she recounted that first day of school, how she arrived while seats were being decided and how Chloé demanded to move seats so she could sit behind Adrien who didn’t arrive that first day (beside her, Adrien shifted again). Alya came and dragged her to the front row, but it hadn’t been without incident as she tripped on nothing to spill the rest of her Papa’s macaroons for the class.

 

 _“_ _… Oh my God--! Wait!”_

 

On the other end, there were pounding footsteps, Alya’s voice yelling back at someone, and then a door slamming.

 

 _“_ _Sorry, I was sitting with my family in the front, but oh my God, Marinette…! Where have you been? Did the police find you? What happened?”_ So many questions all rapid fire until Alya’s voice hitched, _“Girl, you have any idea how worried everyone was? Thank God you’re back…!”_

 

Marinette felt the fresh wave of tears spill over her face, but another hand dealt with them, his short fur plush against her skin. She hiccupped, “Alya… it’s a long story and I can’t tell you everything over the phone. But… I’m so happy to hear you again!”

 

_“Where are you? I think I could get out right now…”_

 

“N-No! No, don’t do that…” She calmed her heart, knowing that Alya would run over to the bakery barefoot if need be, but she couldn’t. Both of them knew it was late. “Come to the bakery Sunday if you can. Maman and Papa already know I’m making this phone call, and I will explain everything then.”

 

_“The bakery? You’re at home? But your parents…”_

 

“They can’t say anything, Alya. Please, you’ll understand when you get here.” There was silence again as Alya processed the information on her end, but something told Marinette that she had nodded before actually replying ‘Sure’. The young designer sighed; Alya was way too good to her. “Oh! Also, you can't tell anyone you spoke to me.”

 

_“Is that part of everything, too?”_

 

“Yeah. I promise, on Sunday, you’ll understand everything…” She trailed, and added, “Almost everything. There are some things I don’t get still.”

 

 _“Well, that’s a bit cryptic, but okay. My lips are sealed and I’m going to be over bright and early on Sunday. Seriously, I—wait.”_ There was shouting in the background again, but it was over as soon as it started. Alya was back on the phone, _“Time to get the twins to bed. Remember girl! Bright and early!”_

 

“Hehe, I’ll remember… I’ll see you then, Alya.”

 

_“See you, Marinette. And welcome back.”_

 

“… Thanks.”

She lowered the phone, pressing the screen to end the call. Holding it in both hands, she stared at the screen until Alya’s photo was gone and it returned to the home menu. She blew several strands of hair out of her face, proud of herself, “That went better than expected.” A short squeak was the next sound to escape her, Adrien’s warm arms enveloping her in a snug embrace.

“I told you that you had nothing to worry about!” he teased, and she was sure he could feel her blush pressed against her face as he was. Of course, for that teasing tone, she was already scrolling through her contacts until she reached Nino Lahiffe. He must have noticed that at least given the way his abruptly tensed.

“Are you ready, kitten?” she hummed, holding her thumb over the call button. Her eyes glanced towards him from the corner of her eye. He seemed to be sweating and his tail was waving madly.

He groaned, “A deal’s a deal. Let’s get this over with.”

“You’ll be fine, Adrien.” It wasn’t as hard to be confident when she wasn’t the one preparing for a potentially awkward phone conversation. Hitting ‘call’, she passed the phone to his claw, and shifted to lean against his shoulder as he raised it. The ear closest to the speaker twitched, half-folding while they both heard the phone’s continued ringing. When it clicked, his eyes bulged.

 

_“H-H-Hello? Which... Which dimension is c-calling..?”_

 

“Which dimen—Nino? What are you talking about?”

 

_“… What the- Adrien!?”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who has two thumbs and a Christmas cold? That's riiiight... MEEE! But I'm getting over it. Certainly did not help the production of this chapter geezus.
> 
> Anyway, here we go with the introduction of Alya and Nino back into the story. ABOUT DANG TIME RIGHT? Well, considering each parties group of friends, we're going to see positive and negative reactions in due time, and why Marinette would obviously freak out over them appearing before anyone. Another thing, if you're reading this while waiting for action to happen, that's coming soon, but what's going to happen? I can't tell you, shhhh... but it will be something Miraculous.
> 
> So... question... were Marinette's freak outs in this chapter plausible? I mean, something you might see her thinking? And Nino, like, I know he was directing the Horrificator, but come on, at least he knew that was an akuma and not a phone call from some person who was missing... supposedly. Though, if it's revealed he ain't afraid of no ghosts, I'll change it.
> 
> Keeping it short because I have some holiday stuff to do. As always, please leave kudos, comments, and subscribe! See you in the next chapter!


	9. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The greatest healing therapy is friendship and love. - Hubert H. Humphrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir was created by Thomas Astruc and Zagtoons, Inc. Please support the official release.
> 
> Beta Reader: [PocketNoivern](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketNoivern/profile)

Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie’s bell jingled clearly as the door swung open and closed, alerting Sabine at the counter of a new customer – or in this case, of another guest. Nino pulled down his orange headphones so they rested on his shoulders before he adjusted his baseball cap with shaking hands. His shirt was the usual bold and blue, his favorite band’s black-and-white logo printed on front, and to finish off the look, his favorite blue-gray jeans. Adrien had told him to keep it casual and try not drawing attention to himself, but Nino hadn’t been looking to dress up anyway.

Exhaling, and fighting the urge to pocket his hands, he walked forward. When he approached the front counter, Sabine had just finished assisting another customer. She waved them goodbye, facing him next with a smile.

“Nino, it’s good to see you again,” she greeted, eyes on him while also watching the other customers browse. “Go on upstairs. They’re waiting for you in the living room.”

“Ah, thanks Sabine.”

He didn’t understand what she meant by ‘they're’. Far as he knew, he was meeting up with Adrien who was – for some reason – at the Dupain-Chengs. What about Marinette? Were they trying to replace her with another kid? Why his best bud? Heck, he had been figuring all this time he was locked up in solitary, out of the country, or something else courtesy of his dad.

Skipping up to the second floor landing, he approached the residential door and knocked. Footsteps approaching, his brows pressed when he found they were far too light to be Tom, and his eyes widened when Alya of all people opened the door, familiar ombré curls resting upon her shoulders, and wearing her favorite red-and-white plaid top with blue jeans pairing. She was equally surprised to see him standing there, but stepped back to let him in.

“I didn’t know Marinette called you,” she said as she closed the door, not noticing his immediate bewilderment.

“Marinette?” he asked, spinning around and watching her eyebrow quirk as he spoke, “I got called by her number, but I spoke to Adrien.”

“ _ Adrien? _ Like, Adrien Agreste?” She crossed her arms, mouth crooked in disbelief, “He’s been AWOL, right? Or basically under house arrest by daddy dearest? You told us that.”

“I don’t know anymore.” He rubbed the back of his head. He really didn’t understand what was happening. Marinette called Alya so she had to be here, but Adrien was here, too. He didn’t get it, but he didn’t expect much either, but Alya—

“I swear to god, girl, if you’re telling us now you both eloped, or you’re pregnant with his child…!” she called up the stairs before the kitchen, the trapdoor in the ceiling closed. It had been on the verge of opened, but slammed shut. The hinges rattled.

_ “A-Alya! It’s nothing like that!” _

Nino even made a face, wondering how she jumped to those conclusions. They were still kids - er, teenagers, and while he understood some people around their age were going out and probably giving  _ those _ activities a try, this was Marinette they were talking about. No, this was  _ Adrien _ they were talking about. Alya looked over at him, and obviously, she didn’t believe her own words, but she shrugged, just as puzzled. They had been months without their friends that anything might as well be a possibility, right?

_ “Look, we’re… we’re coming down right now. Just sit down on the couch, and promise you won’t freak out!” _

“What?” Alya exchanged looks with Nino again, troubled now by what those words meant. They definitely didn’t make those wild thoughts from earlier any less plausible. Fidgeting in her spot, and brushing her hair over her shoulder, she sighed. Turning one step at a time, Alya was the first walk over to the couch and take a seat. “Alright, I promise not to do anything.”

“Same… We’re waiting for you dudes,” Nino soon chirped, sitting down near the couch’s bend. His fingers drummed his knees while Alya toyed with her phone in her hands, thumbs hovering over the screen, but hesitating to key in her password. She didn’t; and Nino didn’t bother turning on his music. Though, when his fingers finally did drift to his headphones and Alya tapped in the first number, the trapdoor started opening once more with a creak. Two pairs of soft footsteps padded down the staircase, and Alya saw them first. Her cell phone clattered and she slapped both hands over her mouth, cutting off a shriek. Startled at her reaction, Nino raised his head and looked only to immediately spring onto the back of the couch. They told them not to freak out and they tried their best.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs were Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng. At least, both of them had the same physical stature and hair color, but everything else was… not. Skin, hands, eyes, builds, even teeth, the two did their best to uphold their promise – or, stop themselves from freaking out any more than they already had.  However, several minutes passed, and neither side of the room moved. There were only small movements on Adrien’s part as his ears folded and soon pressed flat against his head. Marinette moved next, but only her head as she glanced at him, grimacing. How quickly she snapped her head back to Alya and Nino almost made them flinch.

“It’s a lot to take in,” she began, shifting on her feet to stand straighter and cross her arms behind her back. “But… we invited you guys over so we could explain what’s going on so please… please just try to listen to what we have to say.”

A few more seconds passed before Alya and Nino found themselves shifting more appropriately into their previous seats with their hands resting on their laps. Calm, they needed to stay calm because there just had to be a reasonable explanation for this and- “Okay… okay, we’re cool. I think… we’re both cool, you guys go ahead,” Alya said, breathing in and out. She  _ was _ going to try her best because this was still her friend.

On the other hand, Nino and Adrien hadn’t known each other too long. Still, the DJ’s attempts to befriend the boy and actually show him a real teenage life, he wasn’t going to let it be ruined by some bizarre cosmetic changes. The first appearance was just shocking – though, the eyes would definitely take longer getting used to. “Yeah…” He shifted again, closer to Alya to provide some space on the couch, fingers clenching his knees, “Yeah, what Alya said. We just weren’t expecting… you know, whatever’s going on with the makeover.”

The newly freed couch space, as predicted, was shortly occupied as their two friends sat down, trying to make themselves comfortable, but Adrien hid his claw-tipped fingers between his thighs while Marinette drew her knees to her chest. Their eyes met, a quiet communication exchanged between them, and soon, Adrien sighed.

“It was back in September, that day I finally managed to apologize to Marinette about the whole gum misunderstanding,” he started, trying to keep his tone level as he continued. He explained again how, when he returned home that evening, his father had all but told him to meet with a man named Hawkmoth. Though it had gone well, he spoke of how he was taken to the facility, bright eyed and eager that he would be doing something to help people and his father, but underwent days of excruciating procedures instead, turning him into what he basically was now.

Marinette, with her chin resting on a knee, took over at this part, before Alya or Nino could ask any questions. Fortunately for the two of them, their friends made presently for a silent, but expressively reactive audience. When Marinette talked about her kidnapping, they sat in muted horror; and when he talked about how day-after-day she continued crying to go home after her procedures, Alya wept without sound. Nino’s eyes stung too, but he managed to avoid doing so when Marinette talked about being ‘introduced’ to Adrien in his own cell. She described his mask, the chains, everything from how he looked, how the room appeared, and the attacks Adrien could suffer. For a brief moment, they all felt the light within the hopeless story Marinette told, and felt the despair when she uttered Hawkmoth’s name.

Adrien talked, then Marinette, and so forth. They sustained themselves by exchanging who spoke, giving the other time to recover from memories replaying of their ordeals from those last days surviving together in the facility to surviving a trek back to Paris.

“… that’s how we ended up back here in December, shortly before Christmas,” Marinette explained, no longer tucked in her ball, but her shoulders were hunched forward. At some point, her hand had become intertwined with Adrien’s own, a detail that had not gone unnoticed by Alya or Nino though neither decided to mention it yet. “Maman and Papa took us in with few questions, and we spoke to the detectives that were trying to find me,” Marinette murmured, and then shook her head, “We’ve been in hiding ever since. We only contacted you now because… I was scared.”

“No, we both were scared,” Adrien corrected, scratching his head with his free hand. “We don’t want to go back to that place, but it seemed like trying to do anything might end up getting us caught by Hawkmoth again. Even just calling friends…”

“You guys…” Alya whispered, frown etched on her face and brows knitted together. “You don’t have to feel bad about that.” She bobbed her head several times, arms crossing over her chest. “Hearing that story, it makes sense why you don’t wanna trust anyone. And with everything that Hawkmoth guy did, I’d be terrified to get caught, too.”

“No kidding,” Nino quipped, both hands massaging his temples, “Marinette, your parents are the coolest people, I swear. They didn’t freak out or anything when you just popped up on their doorstep?”

“Papa did, but only for a moment,” she replied, her lips curl into a fond smile at the memory. “He recognized me pretty fast even with all this red and black going on. They didn’t know how to feel about Adrien at the beginning though, but I’m sure they’d already decided to take him in no matter what.”

“What’s with that anyway?” Alya asked, pointing a finger between both mutant teenagers. They both tilted their head, leaving the other girl to fill in the gaps in her question. “The changes… Adrien definitely has the whole thing going on, but you’re kinda on the light side of what most people might expect.” As though to emphasis her point, Adrien’s cat ears both twitched and he unconsciously checked to make sure his fangs weren’t visible, his tail wrapping around Marinette’s waist.

Said black-spotted female shivered before speaking up next. “That… Apparently, I’m still in my early mutation stages. Adrien’s a lot farther along mainly because of his gene and how aggressive his powers can be. They kept forcing him to change without his partner – without me - to help him.”

“Really?” Ayla’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “How do you know that?”

“Er…” Marinette rubbed her hand over Adrien’s own. “We haven’t told my parents, but we snuck out one evening.”

“Being inside for six months wasn’t good for either of us, but I saw being locked inside was especially difficult for Marinette. So, I convinced her we could go on the terrace,” Adrien filled in, gesturing upward with his other hand. Dropping his hand, he nipped his lip with a fang, brows curling as he considered his next words. “Anyway, when we went up there, she sensed something. It’s still weird explaining how her powers work, but they led us to two other mutants that live nearby. They knew more about our changes, and said they would help us finish mutating, We should look almost normal again at the end of it.”

“‘They’? We’re not getting a name?” Alya seemed put out by that lack of detail.

The pig-tailed girl bobbed her head, her lips curled apologetically. “Sorry Alya, but they’re in hiding too. If I told you, I know you would go speak to them yourself.”

“Hey…!” The protest came out rather loudly, and her arms crossed as she pouted, but Alya shortly shrugged her shoulders. “… That’s true, but I’m just looking out for you.”

“Okay, but you said finish mutating.” Nino rightfully winced, “That’s gonna hurt, right? And are you guys sure it’ll work?”

“… No,” Marinette said softly. “But that’s the thing, isn’t it? What if it does and we don’t do it? We don’t know until we try, but if it doesn’t work, what if something else happens?” She shook her head, “We’ve been through enough… Adrien’s been through too much. He wants to go home and make sure his father’s okay, but—“

“Ah! Stop right there!” Alya snapped, standing up quickly, causing everyone to jump. Hands on her hips, she only looked stern, but a glint in her eyes said otherwise. It only took two steps for her to stand before Marinette and clap her hands on her shoulders. All eyes on her, Alya grinned, “You’re overthinking it again. What you – no, what both of you need is more confidence. Look, girl, you already called us over to reveal this whole secret going on. It’s not going to be the same because going in to try getting fixed does mean some more pain, but did these guys ever say this whole cure thing  _ not _ working would make you both worse?”

Marinette opened her mouth… but then closed it, eyes widening. Realization seemed to come over her as she uttered, “Actually, they never said that it  _ wouldn’t _ work. I became skeptical that it might not after worrying about what would happen during the sessions.”

“See? Marinette, you let your thoughts get out of control and then your emotions wind you up,” Alya said, drawing one hand back while tapping Marinette’s forehead with her other index finger. “Try just keeping some things up here, and don’t sweat all the details. Be confident, and stay positive. Besides, I’m sure Adrien wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you.” She snuck a wink over to Adrien who flushed brilliantly beneath the black fur on his cheeks.

“Adrien’s totally got your bestie covered, Alya.” Adrien was startled by the arm encircling his shoulder, both wondering how Nino moved beside him so quickly and what he had to say. The capped boy grinned side, “Ever since this guy refused to throw Chloé under the bus, I knew he would be the textbook shut-in Prince type that needed more friends. He’ll easily get Marinette outta harm’s way if it happens.”

“Uh… wouldn’t that make him more of a knight?”

“Can’t he be both?”

“… Touché, Lahiffe.”

Nino smiled wider, but then faced Adrien, “Also, bro, if you need to shout something out, you should do it, you know?”

“Huh?” Adrien’s ears stood up and Nino shook his head.

“Dude, you don’t notice, but you always make this face when you’re holding something back,” he explained and tried to imitate a stoic expression with a frown, but it didn’t work out. “While you’re out of your pop’s house, be free man! Do something new, express yourself, make… I don’t know, puns or something!”

Adrien stared, but then tapped his chin. “Nino… you’re  _ rye _ about that.” Smirking a bit, he glanced around at the three now staring at him, the expression slowly melting the longer they said nothing. However, before he completely shrunk, the silence was broken by a groan – Marinette’s groan. She pulled her hands back to herself only to cup her face.

“Oh no, Papa’s infected him,” she whined while Alya and Nino laughed at her plight. Whatever tension had built burst, and when the laughter died down, they finally spoke about something else – about things Adrien and Marinette had been missing out on such like school and some public events (Mayor Bourgeois being re-elected. “Guess who made a big deal out of that?” Alya scoffed). Hook-ups, break-ups, pantomime performances gone wrong, and the battle between XY and Jagged Stone, they wanted to talk about it all, but one day would obviously not be enough. Alya soon received a text and Nino got a phone call that summoned both of them home much to all four’s displeasure. Still, Alya managed a joyful smile.

“Hey, don’t be strangers now. Just shoot us a message and we’ll plan another day to hang out,” she said as they all stood by the door to say their goodbyes. Both arms wrapped snugly around Marinette first and then Adrien next. “I don’t need to tell you two this, but look out for each other. Adrien, promise me now you’ll take care of Marinette during these mutation sessions, okay?”

“I promise, Alya,” Adrien replied with firm confidence. Her eyes narrowed as she examined him hard, but nodded shortly, satisfied with his answer. Nino stepped forward then, bringing Adrien into a hug where both guys patted each other’s backs. Marinette received something closer to Alya’s own hug earlier.

“Marinette, keep taking care of my bud and have him yell into a pillow from time-to-time or something.”

“I’ll do that,” Marinette giggled, her smile soft. “But maybe we’ll avoid stressing him out so he needs to and make him laugh instead.” That earned two thumbs up and an appreciative glance from Adrien. Together, they watched, and listened to their school friends head down the stairs, bidding farewells to Sabine and Tom. Marinette placed a hand over her heart at the familiar chiming doorbells, the other holding onto Adrien’s own again, their fingers knotted together. They felt more at ease than they had in awhile.

 

And Marinette was ready to see Master Fu again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH, sorry for the wait! Again, holidays and whatnot, beta and writer got a little behind, but here it is! Might be a little shorter than what most of you were expecting, but Alya and Nino will be making appearances again in other chapters... in fact, chapter after next should feature them again. But with our kids being set on the path again, it's time for their treatments to begin. Who will take the lead? You'll see.
> 
> Also, I posted something on my Tumblr today. Besides hitting 200 followers now, they're two more story ideas. I won't start either of them until Metamorphosis is done, but how about some feedback? Also, you guys get to decide between the two which you would rather see. They're both fairytale AU style though one is abundant and other is more focused on _a_ fairytale. So, [Beast and Red](http://artisticflutter.tumblr.com/post/155095286971/beast-and-red), or [Sun and Moon](http://artisticflutter.tumblr.com/post/155096777756/sun-and-moon). Both titles are tentative and definitely subject to change by the final product.
> 
> Besides that, please leave kudos, comments, and subscribe for future updates! See you in the next chapter!


	10. Pain Tolerance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Closing his eyes, he stopped holding himself back. She needed his help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir was created by Thomas Astruc and Zagtoons, Inc. Please support the official release.
> 
> Beta Reader: [PocketNoivern](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketNoivern/profile)
> 
> Warning: Extreme Cat Tendencies and Gore

Pain had been expected.

Ever since the first session, there had been the lightest presence of a prickle, but the pain at each subsequent appointment steadily became more notable than the last. It built, compounding upon each other, but Adrien could withstand it. His transformations had been excruciating and he had his moments losing his mind, but that was him, and in this case, the one suffering was Marinette. It was obviously taking everything in her power not to scream as Master Fu worked, but as his powers coaxed the energy in her body out, she could only struggle for so long.

Three sessions in and her physical appearance began to alter. The first change was the addition of white spots near her eyes, and the second had been minuscule fangs (when compared to his own). It wasn’t until the antennae appeared that Adrien had become fairly concerned about what other changes Marinette might undergo. Like him having many feline traits, he realized progressively her changes would have to be more insect-like. How far though? He didn’t know enough about ladybugs to know what else might be in store besides wings, but that didn’t mean she would grow those, right? And if she did—

A sob had him snap to attention, and he couldn’t take it anymore. Master Fu lowered his hands and nodded, permitting Adrien approach. The boy was swift to Marinette’s side, picking her up gingerly from the mat laid out just for her. She trembled in his arms, elbows and knees bending instinctively to lessen her discomfort. Try all she wanted, but it couldn't shield her from the internal strain. Feeling her shake made him wish he could do something to take it away.

“We’ll schedule you both back in three weeks,” Master Fu sighed, grunting faintly as he rose to his feet. “She will need one week in bed for her next physical changes, and another to recover. You’ll need gauze... and these plastic sheets…” Adrien’s head snapped up, eyes wide and watching Master Fu fill a small duffel bag with various supplies. His ears pulled back; he didn’t like the amounts of herbal salves that were going in with the bandages and spare provisions. Fu zipped the bag closed and paused. Shaking his head, he turned and approached Adrien. “I am only giving you these as an alternative. When it comes down to helping her though, you must trust your instincts.”

Thin pupils stared at Fu, but then expanded when they focused on the duffel. He didn’t like this – the fact that all this might be needed. He was scared for Marinette. Thinking of the girl, she had buried her face against his chest, her breathing still fairly rapid, and antennae quivering. They were pressed against him – against his neck – and she seemed to calm; or at least, she wasn’t shaking so much. Shifting his hold caused her to moan in discomfort, but he had to do that in order to get the duffel bag.

“Shhh… We’re going home, Marinette,” he purred, slipping the supplies onto his shoulder before picking her up properly with both claws. Rising to his feet as smoothly as he could, he bowed his head to Master Fu. “Thank you. We’ll see you in three weeks.” His goodbye to Wayzz was wordless, but the natural mutant understood why he was in a hurry and merely nodded solemnly back.

Stepping outside, a single bound launched Adrien up to the rooftop and ran the moment he had his footing, rushing back to the bakery with his arms locked to avoid jostling the shifting mutant in his arms. He stilled once briefly, black ears quivering at a boisterous evening crowd passing below on the sidewalk, and waited for them to turn the corner. Though he wanted to get back, it would be detrimental to be caught now. It didn’t stop him from hissing and he felt his patches of fur stand along with his hair, remaining such as he vaulted across to the next rooftop. The lights were still on and he wondered if her parents were anticipating their arrival. Hopefully… maybe… he did need their help, and they needed to know that Marinette wouldn’t be active for several days.

After the first change, they had to tell them. It wasn't feasibly possible to hide everything from them especially not when it was their _daughter_ going through the treatments first. The moment the white spots appeared, they had inquired, concerned that something else might be going on. No vocal suggestions were near what Alya suspected when they invited her and Nino over a few weeks ago, but they edged close. Calmly as she could manage, Marinette told them the truth while leaving out Master Fu and Wayzz as she had with Alya. Reasonably so, her parents were apprehensive, but she managed to smile and reassure them everything would be fine.

But if this had been the result of her first session, he knew they would try cancelling any future appointments.

Silently landing on the terrace, he had to shift his hold again to open the trap door and drop down. He barely bounced upon contact with the mattress, but Marinette still whimpered. That was enough to draw the eyes of both Sabine and Tom who stood waiting by her desk.

“Adrien, what happened?” Sabine gasped, giving him space to come down from the loft at least. Reluctantly, he handed Marinette over so he could properly shrug off the duffel bag, opening it to retrieve the extra sheets. He knew the girl would not want to stain her bedspread with… whatever Master Fu was anticipating would occur.

“It was the usual,” he answered, but his tone betrayed his anxiety. One sniff, an ear twitch, and he found himself focusing in on his friend. Her heart pounded like a jackhammer and her scent was becoming clotted with wet iron. Was she bleeding somewhere? He stopped himself from externally whining with a firm headshake, reminding himself Marinette’s parents were waiting for him to explain. “… He said our next appointment’s in three weeks. Marinette will be undergoing significant changes over the next week and needs to stay in bed. The duffel bag has a few things that should help her.”

While their expressions fell, they made no comment. Together, they quietly situated the young girl comfortably on the chaise, Sabine laying out the plastic sheet first and Tom setting her down upon it, covering her up with a light cotton sheet last. She wasn’t groaning like before, but her antennae were twitching; sensing, sniffing, and seeking something. The unique appendages still concerned him, but at the moment, he merely slinked forward, raising a hand to them to see if they sought what he thought they might be. Indeed, in the presence of his hand, both turned to his palm and began running over the smidgen of fur and creases there, settling against his open palm with the occasional twitch. Sinking, he curled up on the edge of the chaise, keeping his hand before her, but lowering his head onto her chest, ears pressed flat against his hair. A large hand patting him caused him to shift, but he didn't rise.

“She’s strong, Adrien. You know that all too well,” Tom said softly while Sabine adjusted the pillows for a little more comfort. Bright lime eyes only gazed towards Tom briefly before flicking back to Marinette whose breathing had finally evened out. Her heart wasn’t beating so fast anymore either, but that heavy metallic scent remained. Though he fretted, her Papa’s hand continued to pat him, calming him enough that he remained still, and keeping silent vigil over her. “That’s it. You’ll help her through this as always. And if you need us, you know where Sabine and I are.”

Slowly, he nodded, again relieved at Tom and Sabine’s kindness and trust. They knew he would do everything he could in his power to make her comfortable and ease any pain she might further experience, but… even he didn’t know how much he could mentally withstand if she suffered just like she had at the parlor. A blanket over his shoulders, and he raised his head to meet Sabine’s gentle eyes. She gave one of his ears a small scratch before speaking, “You’re not going to be comfortable like that, but we probably won’t be able to get you to lie down properly.”

“Thank you, Sabine.”

With his faint smile and attention turning back to Marinette, he heard them soon bidding goodnight. One click and the room was engulfed in darkness; a second, and the trap door downstairs rested shut.  Adrien still saw everything, street lamps providing him with enough light that he could observe the night like day. Beneath his head, Marinette’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and her heart thumped in his ear. Drawing his hand away from now limp antennae, he draped his arm over her, and he held her the best he could from his position.

One week.

They could get through this.

 

* * *

 

It started when he woke up to raw red fingers leaving bloody streaks in his hair, and his heart practically leapt out of his mouth upon realization before he tore into the duffel bag. The bandages Master Fu had provided along with the herbal salves were enough to fully encase her arms all the way to her elbows and both legs to up to the knees. For some reason, just those portions of her vibrant skin had sloughed off and they wouldn’t know the end results until she finished healing. All while dressing her, Adrien felt his instincts itch in his mind, but he squashed them, doing similar with each redressing throughout the day. Luckily for him, actions such as carrying her to the bathroom (Sabine helping him in those instances) and feeding her seemed to quell the agitated cat inside of him.

After that, it seemed fine.

Three days passed with new bloodless developments, and Marinette almost seemed back to herself. She wanted to get up and do more than on her own rather than having to rely on him or her parents. It resulted in her constantly shifting on the chaise despite Adrien’s attempts to occupy her. With open wounds like hers, he refused to take her up onto the terrace and suppressed her agitation through cuddles. Bumping her with his head and vocally meowing always seemed to put her in a better mood when his humor failed.

But that was the calm before the storm…

He snapped awake at the smell of salt water and blood, and instantly sprang up from the ground. Tossing his blanket aside, he scrambled to the chaise, eyes popping wide and pupils thin at the sight. Marinette had knocked her bedsheet to the floor and left herself exposed, limbs shaking and all bleach white bandages tinged a deep mahogany. However, that wasn’t all. Beneath her, the plastic sheet was smeared with burgundy streaks, faint traces of fresh crimson speckled between. She was bleeding on her back; she was _still_ bleeding from somewhere on her back. Reaching to help, his nose twitched and he realized that her arms and legs were also bleeding again.

“Marinette…!” Adrien yelped touching her, letting his clawed fingertips draw lightly against her head and brushing back some of her hair. She was so cold, but sweat dappled her brow despite the fact. And looking into her dim ocean eyes, he could see they were welled with tears. His ears flattened and he leaned closer, his temple bumping against her forehead. “I got you… you’re going to be okay.”

“A-Adrien…” Her teeth chattered and her shoulders shook. She was attempting to move again, but he held her down. Her groan was so distant, “My back… i-it hurts. P-Please, make it st-stop…!”

Her fingers twitched, and he understood. At some point while they slept, her back started hurting. Lying on it, she had attempted to roll over and moved her arms and legs. The healing limbs hadn’t supported her, but she must’ve kept trying. Why hadn’t she just called him? Though, why hadn’t he awakened either?

“I’m sorry.”

It was still an automatic response as he tried to gently turn her, earning a moan in response. Again, he wasn’t prepared for the sight he had to behold. Crusted blood had her loose pajama top sticking to her back, the darkest spot making a line in the middle and the stain must have bloomed out. It wasn’t just there, but everywhere, her earlier actions having caused it to get on the remainder of her clothes. He needed to get Tom and Sabine; this was becoming too much, but he only took one step before her strangled sob drew him back and he gaped.

On either side of her spine, her back began moving like something living writhed beneath her skin, stretching her shirt with it. Marinette’s whole form became rigid and her eyes bulged, arms jerkily shifting. Her bandaged fingers curled and clawed at her plastic sheets, ripping through them and drawing a fresh red line on the chaise’s mattress as she bled further through her wrappings.

Adrien’s fur stood on end, his ears and tail high in alarm, and his eyes darting. Everything just seemed to be happening at once and he had no idea what to do. He needed to get her parents, but she needed his help now. What did he do to help her though? At most, he knew her clothes needed to come off, but Sabine, and the store. It was both a miracle and stressful that Marinette’s cries had yet drawn her parents. Maybe she wasn’t as loud as he thought she was. Or maybe he couldn’t hear them rushing around below. All he could focus on was her.

Another wash of cooper made his mind reel and he looked towards her face. She had bitten her lip with her fangs; it was getting worse and mounds from her back appeared again, larger than before. She choked, sobbing when she could breathe. Wildly, he looked around the room… and then he saw it. On her desk rested her cell phone plugged in and charging. Hopefully, it had enough power because he yanked it free from the cord and turned on the screen. Fortunately for both of them, she had shared her passcode in case he wanted to call Nino for any reason. He sent off a quick message to her parents, but now it was up to either one of them having their cell phone readily available.

“Hold on Marinette...! Your parents are---”

She screamed.

There was the faintest registry of the wet tearing. He did acutely feel warm liquid splash on his face, but ignored the red streaks left behind, breath caught in his throat. The left side of Marinette’s back had ripped open taking part of the shirt with it. If only it were a gaping wound, but now limp against her back was a massive, translucent insect wing. The cells glimmered ruby in the fading sunlight that managed to fall upon it, bits of shirt, skin, and other various tissues clinging to it. He thought he might be ill. A cough penetrated his sluggish mind and he realized Marinette was already ahead of him.

What could he do?

Or... could he do anything?

There was a sizzling along his spine and black sparks crackled. More than before did the incessant gnawing begin and his pupils dilated when he recalled the words Master Fu imparted on him. With trembling claw and no more ideas, he closed his eyes and let go.

One second after he swapped, he sunk down to all fours and crept upon the chaise, careful to move over both wing and the trembling body of his female companion. “Adr… ien…?” he heard her voice as it whimpered brokenly and his chest ached at her tone. He slipped an arm beneath her form to let her know yes, he was there. They were going to get through this.

“I’ve got you, My Lady…” he whispered in her ear before placing her back down on the chaise. This was a mess, but Adrien blocked out what he failed to do and concentrated on what needed to still be done.

Claws moved first, slicing through her top until it was in two, making an extra cut to peel the fabric away from around her wing and expose her back. Just as he thought from the bloodstain, there had been a clean split right down her spine, but now, the left side was frayed. There was one-half of a spotted shell that reached to her lower back lying covered in the wrangled mess left behind after ripping out of her back, limp as the wing it was supposed to protect. The human portion of Adrien’s conscious screamed, but the animal crooned, and both mingled minds were alarmed when the bulging began again on her right side. The faintest sound came from Marinette this time, the girl too tried to muster another scream and bordering on passing out. He was surprised she hadn’t done so sooner all things considered.

Raising a dark hand, he pressed it against the bulge struggling to rip itself free similarly to its other half. That only made it wriggle harder, but he didn’t release it. Determined to hold it steady, Adrien used it as a guide, tracing out its size and shape with his other claw, and making a decision where to… where to do this.

His Adam’s apple bobbing, he drew back up, stopping near her vertebrae where the top of the shell rested. Fangs gnashed together, he pierced her skin with his claws.

She stiffened and found the strength to wail, but he pulled, eyes stinging as he intentionally carved her open around the trapped shell. Not too shallow but not too deep, and he reached the end of the second wing after a nauseating amount of time. It did not burst forth as the first, but spilled open as he peeled back her skin, the second translucent cell sliding past him to droop over the chaise like its pair. Purrs were already making their way throughout his body, but they were distressed, interrupted by intermittent hiccups as he drew his claws back.

Don't cry... he couldn't cry right now.

He could hear the rampant footsteps stampeding on the floors below and knew he could wait for help, but his body didn’t want to. It was shifting again unconsciously, instincts in overdrive at the rapid breathing and heartbeat echoing from his Queen. He hunched and moved over her body. his arms quietly situating themselves around her, careful again of her fresh wings and wounds. His face lined up with her back and the garish injuries covering it. His sense of smell and vision were clouded by the sight – warnings in his mind didn’t stop him from doing what so naturally came next to him.

Rusted metal filled his mouth as he his tongue lapped up tainted blood and passed over her ruined skin. The bitterness of the poison mixed in her system numbed his mouth, but didn’t deter him. Something told him it would fade – that he was safe from her toxin. Even if it did harm him, _she_  needed him over his well being. The familiar clawing on his back drew a growl from his throat to interrupt his rumbles and it felt like his skin was being torn away. It stung mercilessly on his left with each tongue pass over her flayed tissue, but he chirped in satisfaction, seeing red and black dots weaving over her open back and coating over visible muscle with a thin layer of dark film. He felt something hot run down his spine, but he ignored it, cautiously beginning to lick beneath her left wing.

The trap door slamming open made him cease, but it didn’t wake him up. Instead, the feline mutant arched and snarls tore from his throat as he positioned himself defensively over Marinette, glowing eyes darting between two frozen intruders. Brain processing the stilled forms of Sabine and Tom, the sounds died as Adrien voluntarily flinched and shook his head, snapping himself back to semi-awareness. He glanced down and sprung backwards, hands raised, “I...!”

“Adrien, if you apologize, I promise I’m going to kick you the moment I can get up…” Marinette grumbled, almost giving the blonde boy a heart attack. _How_ was she still conscious? “Sorry Maman, Papa...”

“Don’t… apologize, Marinette…” Sabine tried to speak with a leveled tone, but Adrien cowered. The room was a bloody mess, no pun intended, and the chaise had suffered the worst followed closely by the immediate floor and one of Marinette’s mannequins. Both of them were not any better, clothes and bodies stained heavily, and he needed to wash his mouth out. He made to slip to the vanity in order to clean his face, but Tom stopped him.

“Adrien, where are you going? Your back is bleeding…”

“… What?”

Reaching for his shoulder to try glancing back, the baker stopped him with a hand and walked him over to the desk chair. Adrien sat down facing the backrest still confused, but looking behind him to see Sabine and Tom digging through the duffel bag. They drew out gauze, herbal salves, moist wipes, pads, and a few other things that he hadn’t really bothered with before, but would probably be useful right now. Adrien could see Sabine already getting to work helping Marinette, but Tom soon blocked his vision.

“Come on, son. Shirt off…”

Adrien made a face, but complied. Those wounds he hadn’t realized were there burned at the slightest shift to draw his black t-shirt over his head. He winced, feeling it peel off his back and wanted to scratch at the blood flakes that remained touching his bare skin. If they got in his hair, he would just shake them out later, but Tom had it taken care off. Involuntarily, he shivered, a chill lancing down his spine as cold wipes cleaned him, and grimaced as Tom worked on his mysterious injuries directly. The wipes gone, he soon hissed upon the herbal salve's contact and generous application. His tail cricked once. It stung, but it was worth it for the numbing relief that followed after.

Tom said nothing, but Adrien’s ear flicked. He made out Marinette speaking softly to her mother, most likely telling her what happened. Her father was probably waiting for similar from him. Venturing on his guess, Adrien began to speak lowly so only Tom heard while dressing the wounds in his back, and informed the older man of how he awakened to Marinette in pain and basically panicked. He mentioned the text before the scream, the wing coming out, and then… and then how he cut the second wing out before it could rip out. Tom’s brow twitched, but he only insisted for Adrien to go on. He complied, but shortly trailed only to again hesitantly pick up by awkwardly explaining how his instincts may have somehow closed and/or transferred Marinette’s injuries to his back by him…

“… Licking.”

“Yeees…” Adrien drew out, feeling himself sweat. It was at that moment he waited to be scolded on being far too close to Marinette and how he couldn’t do that to his little girl. However, it didn’t come. He waited a few more minutes before chancing a look over his shoulder, but Tom was looking back at Marinette. Her healing still had a way to go, but Sabine already made her look better by cleaning up her back and the vomit, and leaving the strange black film visible. There were still her arms and legs that required redressing and her cell wings needed the blood wiped off, but all of them together should manage.

But good news didn’t fend off the still perplexing lack of lecture.

“Tom, if I overstepped any boundaries...” he began, but Tom shook his head.

“If you overstepped any boundaries, Marinette would’ve told us,” he answered with a confident nod. His mustache twitched as a forlorn smile came to his face. “Sabine and I understand… There isn’t much we can do compared to the both of you together. We actually talked about it a while ago.” He raised a hand to rub his head. “It wasn’t exactly about wounds being transferred through licks; that’s certainly a new one. Still, you did what we trusted you would do, Adrien.”

Voice dying, Adrien wondered how many times he would be surprised by Tom’s assurance that he would do right. There was always a possibly he wouldn’t, and then another chance he could be lying. Maybe there was something about him that said he would behave and he just wasn’t seeing it.

Ears twitching at his name, he noticed Tom was now helping Sabine, and they were requesting for his assistance. He wasted no time rising from the chair in order to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe because, Adrien, you jump to helping people in a heartbeat in the end. Sweet sunshine child... haha... 
> 
> Though, still in trouble for Copycat.
> 
> Anyway, here you go! Marinette further undergoes her mutations and there's a bit of a mess in the process. Isn't it nice Nooroo kept his journal entries clean? If you're wondering how a Natural and an Artificial are supposed to change, think of it like Miraculous and Akuma. Miraculous chose when to shift, come to their abilities, and master their powers. Akumas have powers forced upon them in moments of weakness, hurt others, and can hurt themselves. If Marinette awakened naturally, her body wouldn't do what it has nor would Adrien's. And for what's going on with her arms and legs, you'll find out next chapter.
> 
> Also, can I just mention... chapter titles are the worst sometimes. Seriously! The delay today was just thinking of what to call this one! That, and a few more edits to the content (and then one story I follow updated omgosh). Still, how about we get into some powers and actions next chapter, yes? 
> 
> ... Oh! Final thing, looks like most people were interested in the Red Riding Hood!AU so that will be following Metamorphosis! For those that didn't read the except posted last chapter, it will feature Marinette and Adrien as Little Red and the Wolf, and their adventures growing up together after becoming Physical Deities balancing their own lives and the lives of others through magical means. The plan so far is two parts: one for Childhood, and the other, Adulthood.
> 
> Until next time, please leave kudos, comments, and subscribe for future updates! See you in the next chapter!


	11. Pont des Arts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe she had her own instincts now. Those haven't always proved to be a particularly good things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir was created by Thomas Astruc and Zagtoons, Inc. Please support the official release.
> 
> Beta Reader: [PocketNoivern](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketNoivern/profile)

Sleep claimed Marinette after her parents and Adrien finished cleaning her up, amazed that she stayed awake during her harrowing ordeal. Of course, remaining awake did not mean she was mentally there, her pain acting as the worst anchor holding her mind in place. It also meant she had been fully aware of the licking, how it lessened the feeling keeping her there, and provided enough relief that she could relax. The next time she opened them, it was to see a certain boy curled around her head and his chest serving her as a pillow.

For the next several days, she slept lying on her stomach and he would be there letting her sleep on him. His purrs and heartbeat were soothing, and helped keep her mind off the occasional aches that might disrupt her otherwise and diminished them while she was awake. There was very little she could do in her waking hours, but with Adrien’s help, Marinette began practicing how to move her wings, both opening her shell and willing the long cells beneath to come out or fold back. She didn’t mean to get short with him from time to time whenever she struggled to stretch them out or pull them in, but he would smile and pat her hands, pretending like no such thing happened.

It was raining the morning she could finally try standing.

After being eased into sitting position on the chaise, Adrien knelt before her and carefully proceeded to stripping away her bandages with his claws. They were clean, but there were layers still beneath. He wanted to make sure there wasn’t any blood on the lower wrappings, or fragile scars waiting to tear and bleed before helping her stand. Marinette understood and did her best not to fidget, but it felt different. When she couldn’t move, and when she could only lie down and withstand light touches, it was necessary. However, now that she could sit up and move her fingers, she would be capable to do it herself.

Adrien had insisted though. And he was being very meticulous with his method.

She wondered if he was being influenced by his mutations again briefly, but the way his brow would twitch and just how his hands moved suggested otherwise. When the bandages were drawn low enough, she unconsciously whimpered as he cradled her exposed calf in his claw, “Adrien…”

“Sorry… Does this hurt?”

“… N-No. It kind of tickles.” She didn’t stop trembling, watching his hand move over the now black shell that seemed to cover her leg. Down to her feet, it even ran to her heel and toes, but there were pale gaps. For her to bend? It looked like her skin from before this mess so that had to be a good sign. “What does it feel like?”

“It’s… not that different from before. I mean, the coloring obviously...” Her toes curled when he squeezed her foot lightly. “It’s a little slicker, too, but it’s still like a firmer skin.” Drawing his hand away, her heart skipped a beat at his sweet smile. “And it looks like you’ve healed up. I don’t smell any blood and there aren’t any breaks… well, besides the ones for your joints.”

“That’s good. I don’t think either of us would be able to take lying around any longer…” Though she nodded, this information didn’t make his actions seem any less intimate as he worked on her other leg. Again, his eyes scanned and his hand skimmed, his claws making her shiver as he raked lightly beneath her calf to her ankle. His smile grew and she could properly breathe after he set her foot down. Her fingers curled, gripping the chaise only for her hands to tremble when she gripped a little too strong.

“Ready to try getting up now?” he inquired as he slowly rose to his own feet. There was the question and his hand came to hover before her eyes. Taking it or not, saying yes or no, those options were left to her, and she was grateful for his patience. She met his smile with her own, raising her right hand to grab his outstretched palm. It was enough to signal him to take hold of her left hand when she raised it.

Slowly, he helped ease her up. Marinette had been longing for this for over a week, but standing on both feet, she already knew she would have to give it a little more time.

Every moment she found the energy from that hour on, she would try walking again with Adrien’s help. From her chaise to her vanity, to practicing up and down from her loft, her muscles gradually adapted to holding her again, but she tired moving from one new place to the next. Two more days, and again she sat with Adrien supporting her arm and stripping off the last bandages. They matched her legs in appearance and texture, the smooth black shell running down to her fingertips, and joints segmented so each finger could bend like before.

He proceeded to back off physically supporting her, giving her space to maneuver around her room on her own and grow used to her new sense of touch. When she was ready for the next step, he came closer in the event her legs abruptly gave out or she lost her balance going downstairs to the second floor for the first time in what felt like ages. Her mother happened to be in the kitchen when they made it, and tears filled the corner of Marinette’s eyes seeing her Maman cry with the brightest smile across her face.

She wished they could go downstairs to see her Papa before the bakery opened.

If only they could go outside too and enjoy what was shaping up to be a beautiful spring day.

The elation she had felt earlier disappeared once they were back in her room. Seated on the chaise, Adrien sat down next to her, keeping his claws on his lap. Marinette didn’t say anything, her eyes gazing out the window and watching the buildings begin to glow in the morning light. Her two antennae on her head twitched, both rising up when the heard birds flutter past their gateway to view dawn. On her back, her shell and wings shifted anxiously – no, enviously.

“Adrien…”

“Yeah?”

She shifted, looking down at her feet and watching her toes curled. “… I want to go out during the day.”

His shoulders stiffened, but she pressed on.

“I know, we could just go out tonight, but it isn’t the same. Maybe I have my own weird instincts too after this last week, but I want to go out into the sun or lay in the grass. Just for a while… just one time. And then I think I could go on a little longer hiding.”

It was probably too much to want in their position, but between the two of them, they had little reason to hide any of their desires or secrets anymore. They still did, she knew that, and it was almost funny that they carried on like that. Funny, but also sad, and the missed communication between them was already the cause behind so many accidents; they might as well take action and be active. Well, as proactive as they could be.

“… Have you thought about how?”

“What?”

Marinette didn’t expect Adrien to enable her towards going outside, but another part of herself chided, reminding her he had convinced her to go out into the night already. And why was that? Because he was an observant kitten that had noticed her pacing and occasionally watching the crowds outside. It wouldn’t surprise her if he already knew she would eventually bring this up. Turning her head, she noticed him gazing intently, lively green eyes wide and waiting.

“How… I…” she pondered, chin lowering to her chest. If she thought about it, the key features that they had to cover up in order to step out, she already knew. “… Well, we need to wear longer sleeves for one and pants that go down to our ankles, but I guess we could pretend we’re wearing leggings, too. Shoes, hats… a beanie might be a better fit for you.” Her eyes darted to his ears before returning to her hands, her dark fingers twisting together. “And… I think we could get by saying we’re wearing gloves instead of covering up our hands if people don’t look too hard.”

Adrien’s eyes gleamed. “What about our ‘masks’?”

“Hm…” Raising a hand to his face, she felt him stiffen beneath her hand. He didn’t stop her from feeling around his eyes, Marinette noting how the black fur was just as velvety soft as the fur that covered his arms, legs, and back. “This,” she started, thumb stroking again beneath his eye, “might make it difficult, but it could be passed off as makeup maybe.”

“Makeup… you know, that might be able to cover your mask,” he quipped, his fingers skimming against her temple, and making her jolt. “The real issue would be hiding my eyes.”

“No it wouldn’t.” She was on a roll now and felt herself grinning. “You’re a little sensitive to the light anyway. You could try wearing sunglasses.” She was still grinning as realization came to him and burst out laughing as his jaw dropped.

“… Wow, you’re right. How did I miss that?”

He smacked his forehead and stood up, walking over to the desk, leaving Marinette to bounce gleefully on the chaise. She calmed down in a minute, swiping her back to encourage her wings to fold back beneath their shell, and froze when she spotted him with her phone. “Adrien…”

“What?”

“Don’t do it. We really shouldn’t do this.”

“But my Lady wants to so it must be arranged.”

Marinette stumbled getting to her feet, knees wobbling in, and sure enough, she fell back onto the cushions. “Adrien--!” she half-heartedly snapped, heart racing as he returned. The phone was already ringing. Their foreheads touched and her heart leapt into her throat, choking whatever words wanted to try tumbling out. It was only Adrien; she didn’t need to keep getting flustered like this. They had been this close for months so why was this happening? She waited for him to speak, the phone still ringing loud enough for both of them to hear.

“Purr-lease… let me do this for mew.”

The tension collapsed and she groaned, pushing him away as he guffawed. “If it stops you before you keep making awful cat puns.”

 

* * *

 

Three days later, and she still couldn’t believe they were actually doing this.

“Dudes, don’t worry about it! Théo’s totally tight with us chillaxing around the studio. Gave me a spare key and everything,” Nino reassured for the fifth – or was it the tenth? – time as they walked across the street. She pressed close to Adrien to avoid getting lost in the crossing crowd. Her bluebells darted warily, but no one was really giving them a second glance.

Alya managed to convince her into wearing cream, calf length straight-lines, and no one questioned her legs. From there, she dressed herself comfortably with a loose, short-sleeved blouse and a light, rose pink long sleeve jacket that didn’t press her wings against her back. Her hair pulled back in a bun and her antennae pressed down by her sunhat, all three assured her that no one would be able to tell she had changed.

Adrien was a unique challenge. Sure, the dark jeans, forest green shirt, and black leather jacket were fine; even the beanie and sunglasses, but he was turning eyes for other reasons and it wasn’t from inability to hide his fur. Normal Adrien was model worthy resulting in the occasional stray eye to drift and linger on him for maybe five seconds more than necessary. Holding onto his arm, Marinette felt him tense every few seconds in an attempt to stop his ears from twitching or keep his tail from unraveling from his waist.

However, even she had trouble holding her antennae steady when they crossed near Pont des Arts, the loud sound of grating metal and several people barking orders making both their heads turn. Marinette gasped, “What are they doing?”

“Huh? Oh, drat, I can’t believe I forgot to tell you guys,” Alya gasped, slapping her forehead. “Yeah, the city’s removing all the locks. They’re supposed to be installing something to actually replace it in Fall.”

“But the love locks…”

“I know, girl. It’s sad to see them go, but they were kind of messing up the bridge,” her friend sighed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Don’t worry. People will find another way to express their love here in no time.”

“Oh, hey look! Théo’s helping out. Makes sense why he said the workshop would be cool today,” Nino said, pointing out the tall, slim male with a high ponytail helping direct the crane. Marinette blinked, narrowing her eyes, and realized she vaguely recalled seeing the upperclassman around school with a candy stick in his mouth. She didn’t know he worked with the city. Observing the workers aside, Nino and Alya took the lead again and Marinette prepared to follow, but Adrien didn’t move. Head swiveling around to face him, she gave his arm another tug, but still, he remained motionless.

“We should go…”

“Not yet… Something’s wrong.”

His attention was fixated on Théo and the several workers he was with, chaining a hefty section of the lock-covered barrier. Where exactly he was looking, Marinette couldn’t tell due impart to his sunglasses, but he took a step forward… and then a second. She followed him, her hold tightening on his hand as they reached the barricade stopping pedestrians from taking the bridge.

“Hey kids, the bridge is closed right now…”

Marinette briefly glanced at the older woman in her bright safety vest, but she saw it, too. Several planks beneath the overweighed crane groaned and a moment later, people whipped their heads towards the resounding crack. Broken chains clattered upon splintering wood and locks rattled as the barrier came loose from one harness with a second quickly giving out. Dropping, it swung on its last two harnesses, hitting Théo and one other worker back and over the railing. The two workers that managed to be spared were yelling, reaching for the two, but sprung back as the third chain harness snapped and the crane tilted. The lock-bearing barrier crashed against the bridge’s now unenforced railing, breaking it away from the bridge where it bent to dangle over the edge with both personnel hanging on above the Seine. With the broken boards and crane unstable, the rail couldn’t be reached. They would fall.

She found her hand abruptly freed by Adrien’s and yelled when he vaulted the barricade, “Adrien!”

“Hey, stop! It’s not safe!”

“Wait you guys!” Nino and Alya were rushing back, but Marinette was already making her move.

With the guards distracted by Adrien, she bypassed the barricade and ran after him, terrified when he danced over the broken boards. She knew his mutations had granted him feline agility, but the already compromised construction zone still managed to creak with each of his steps. Her heart hammered as he reached the crane and managed to grab it, using his unnatural strength to level and pull it towards a more stable area on the bridge. That was good, but there was still a matter of the two workers still clinging to the busted rail.

Clenching her hands, she analyzed the situation, noticing the last chain harness slowly coming undone with several links unlocking and the railing bent further. She didn’t realize in that split-second the fact they had yet occurred. Instead, a heavily woven weight filled her palm, and her eyes flicked down. A red-and-black rope was in her left hand. Staring, she looked up again, noticing a fairly muscular individual close to the still intact rail.

That’s it!

Tying one end of the rope around her waist, she darted to them and dropped the remainder of the cord into her hands, “Hold this! Don’t let go!”

“A-Ah, what!?”

But Marinette didn’t linger. She darted over the boards in similar fashion to Adrien before, her hands reaching out for the railing and pulling it back before it snapped. It stopped, but it wouldn’t hold for long. “Can you two climb up?”

“N-No!”

“My hands are slipping!”

“M-Marinette! The chain!”

She looked from the two workers and back to Adrien. Her heart was pounding just knowing everything was about to break. The sunglasses on his face had slipped and she caught sight of his thinned pupils and noted his fangs gnashed in effort to keep both crane and barricade from going over the edge, too. Despite that – and despite her own fear – she felt calm. “Trust me… you’ll know what to do.” And with that, she turned and jumped just as the chain gave away, the frame folded, and the crane tipped.

The fall towards the Seine was silent, but she saw that Théo and his co-worker’s mouths were open wide to scream. Their hands relinquished the metal beams that plummeted into the churning waters below, their horrified eyes focused passed her. Ash soon hailed down from above, but she ignored it, reaching out with her hands to catch their wrists regardless of the river rushing towards them. She trusted Adrien would save them, but if they landed in the water too soon, she doesn’t think she left enough rope for him to pull them out if they drifted too far. Her eyes shut tight and her minute fangs dug into her bottom lip as she braced herself, holding onto the men for the inevitable plunge.

Humming filled her ears and they continued falling albeit at a slower rate. Opening her eyes, both males’ were gawking at her.

She met their astonishment with furrowed brows, opening her mouth to ask, but when the warm air breezed her back and threaded her hair, a chill overcame her.

The rope around her stomach became taut, but her wings didn’t fold up. She expected the two to struggle or scream, but they still seemed to be in shock and remained slack while they were pulled back up. Even when her feet were back on the bridge – and once they were on solid ground – she was the one who let go and retreated.

Blood pounded in her ears as her head whipped around and her eyes took in the crowd that had formed around the site. She balked when she bumped into Adrien, spinning to face him so fast she could’ve sworn she got whiplash. His tail wasn’t wound around his waist anymore and his beanie had fallen off, too. The red-and-black rope he held was disappearing in a dazzling glimmer of pink sparkles, illuminating similar trepidation on his face when she met his eyes. There were too many faces, too many phones, and just too many gazes locked on them.

This was happening… Everything was over.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first, yes, the locks are not on the Pont des Arts anymore, and I'm wondering if they're going to address that in the show. Even if they don't, that means Miraculous takes place around 2014 - 2015 before their removal. Interesting! But it's also a work of fiction so times and events can be shifted around. That bridge is kind of iconic after all with Dark Cupid and Princess Fragrance.
> 
> Second... HAH! I'm updating Chapter 11 on the 11th! ... What? I find that funny (pouts).
> 
> Okay, third, serious time... whoops. So much for having a good day outside. Also, don't think of those super large construction cranes. There are folding floor cranes that can be hand operated... honestly, thank you versatile cranes. I saw the photos from the Pont des Arts and I guessed because there has to be a smaller crane, right? I'm not good when it comes to identifying machinery. My lack of understanding construction aside, my eye for fashion? Pft, Adrien is definitely not wearing proper Spring attire, but guys can get away with it more often that gals.
> 
> Finally, as we get closer to the end of Crawl(ing), I've noticed something, but I'll address it once we reach the conclusion of this part. Only four more chapters to go. Who's excited for the ending?
> 
> For now, please leave kudos, comments, and subscribe for future updates! See you in the next chapter!


	12. Cornered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What has he done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir was created by Thomas Astruc and Zagtoons, Inc. Please support the official release.
> 
> Beta Reader: [PocketNoivern](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketNoivern/profile)

He shouldn’t have done that.

He should have started walking when Marinette insisted for them to move, but he couldn’t.

He didn’t know how he sensed what would happen, but he did.

They could have just left. Services would’ve come to save them. They didn’t have to do anything, but he had – they had.

The construction workers stood back with emergency response, police blocking pedestrians who came because of the commotion, but more importantly, stopping Alya and Nino who struggled to reach them. Phones were out, a few cameras were flashing, and he must’ve been tuning it out, but there was a news helicopter circling nearby. Eyes darting from the sky, they flicked down to Marinette. She had bumped into him after he pulled her and the two workers up, and hadn’t moved since. And just like that instant, she was still petrified, her chest rising and falling in rhythm with her rapid breaths. This wasn’t just her panicking like before, but she was in the early stages of a different attack.

Adrien bristled.

His head whipped around when the first person – an officer – stepped towards them. His lips curled back and his mouth opened wide, exposing his fangs as the guttural hiss ripped from his throat. Danger, that’s what the situation was. The officer stepped back, but his hissing only dissolved into low growls. He felt his tail lashing behind him, but he couldn’t just maintain hostility.

Stepping in front of Marinette, he raised an arm to guard her and glowered at the people who still stood there. Their little show was over and if they weren’t going to leave, than the two of them would instead. A small, trembling hand pressed between his shoulders made him glance back, nodding once. Crouching, both arms out, he felt her jump onto his back and press her legs tightly against his waist. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he crouched to all fours.

“Marinette…”

“Please… Adrien, get us out of here.”

One glance towards Alya and Nino, he could see their panic, but they were both mouthing the same thing: run.

Well, he knew he wasn’t only going to run.

“Hold on tight, My Lady.”

Ears forward and claws sliding to the ground, he felt Marinette squeeze. He kicked off towards the crowd on all fours, eliciting gasps and a few screams at his bold action. Some of their audience scattered, but he noted some officers were reaching for their belts. No way was he going to wait to see if they were only grabbing their tasers, leaping high overhead to land behind the crowd and near the street. People who hadn’t stopped to watch shrieked at the blonde cat mutant landing before them, realizing a split-second later the precious cargo holding onto his back. Hackles raised and fangs bared, he turned and bolted across the road, not caring if he cut off a car in the process.

Ducking into the alleyways, there were maybe a few officers in pursuit on foot and Adrien wanted to leap onto the rooftops. It was their go-to getting around without detection, but his ears drew low, the whirring helicopter blades making him flinch and take the next turn. Where he was going didn’t matter; there just needed to be distance between them and those people. Claws scraping, eyes darting, he noticed a small court and awning, and ducked into it, nose curling at the stench of garbage. Stalking quietly and noticing a back door, they were behind a small restaurant; their cover was meant to keep birds out. A quick peek into the window, and he noticed the shop was dark and currently unoccupied. Good – they needed a moment.

Adrenaline coursing through him, his ears flicked madly around and picked up the helicopter circling the general area. He counted one pass, then two, then three, its blades soon replaced by sirens howling in the air. His chest rumbled as a discontent snarl threatened to escape his mouth at the cacophony of events plaguing his senses, but that didn’t matter to him. It had been her day… she wanted to go outside and enjoy the sunlight with their friends. Reaching up to the arms wrapped around his neck, he gently clasped a pale forearm. His ears fell forward and his eyelids drooped.

“Marinette…? Are you okay?” He kept his voice loud enough so only she could hear. His eyes snapped to the side when a patrol car zipped past near their hiding spot, but returned to watching the alley perpendicular to them. Straining his ears, he didn’t hear anyone walking nearby, or running this way. If he could look back at her, he would. She didn’t say anything, but he could hear her breathing and each inhale was just as shaky as the last.

“… Marinette, please, say something.”

Nothing… and he doesn’t think purring would help her this time either. Adrien had done more than make a simple mistake.

“... I’m sorry. You were right,” he whispered, feeling the weight of his ears against his head. Slowly, he sunk to the ground and carefully took a seat, making sure not to disturb her too much on his back. “We shouldn’t have gone out… I shouldn’t have convinced you it would be okay, or asked Alya and Nino to take us anywhere. We should have just tried sneaking onto the terrace.”

He had overlooked that – or maybe, he just wanted her to have more. For all her kindness and care, and for what she went through over the last two weeks, she deserved it. But her one day was over before it could happen. He stiffened when fingers brushed the ends of his hair, a few actually sinking further to touch his scalp.

“No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Both relief and sorrow came over him at her voice. If only he could hold her, tell her that she had every right to want something so simple. “You did the right thing even if it exposed us. If we didn’t save those workers, the barrier would’ve fallen on them, right? You destroyed it?”

“I… yeah, I did.”

All those love locks were gone in an instant, but they would’ve fallen on Marinette and those workers if he didn’t do anything. A shiver lanced down his spine at the very thought of all of them getting hit and maybe even pinned down at the bottom of the Seine. “But… Marinette, it’s okay. You were right; going out at night isn’t the same as going out during the day. It’s beautiful, but it’s also cold and quiet… I wanted to go out in the sun, too.” And he knew he had been selfish piggybacking off her want. He should have just told her the truth and then...

Well, he didn’t know. What was done had been done and they couldn’t do anything about it.

“Let’s talk about this later,” she sighed and he felt her hair tickling his neck before her forehead pressed against his shoulder. “We need to go home.”

He grimaced, but sighed, “Hold onto me. I’ll try to get there as quickly as possible.”

 

* * *

 

Adrien knew this feeling; of a cold, dead weight resting in his stomach and how it felt like his heart stopped beating. Marinette’s weight and warmth disappeared from his back, and he could see her taking slow, hesitant steps through their home. If only it was dark; with this, he felt like he might be sick.

“M-Maman… Papa?” she called, but there was no answer from within the wrecked patisserie. Glass crunched beneath their feet and broken shelves were fallen on the counters. Drawers were ripped open, the register was broken but not emptied, and the tables in the back were clear, the bread they once bore tossed to the ground. Adrien stood frozen in the middle of it all, barely noticing Marinette dash into the back, but hearing her footsteps pounding upstairs in time with his throbbing head. Did she smell it? She probably hadn’t since she was still getting accustomed to her new sense of smell, but he smelled it and his pupils shrunk.

Blood, bleach, and various chemicals mixed in with a few more unique, but abhorrent fluids.

Her scream jolted him and he tore into the back, leaping up the stairs, “ _ Marinette _ !”

He didn’t linger on any floor, not even when he saw them each thoroughly torn through accompanied by that stench. None of it mattered; she was in trouble! And bursting through the door into her room on all fours, he found her fallen to her knees and facing her computer desk. He crawled and remained crouched, placing his hands on her shoulders, but she didn’t look at him or respond. Her eyes were wide and her arms were fallen to her side. Her shaking before didn’t compare.

“Mari--”

But his voice died when he finally followed her gaze to see the words on her wall.

_ #013 and #707, you belong to me. _

Those numbers –  _ their _ numbers, not even their assigned names.

They had been here and her parents were missing. Or, was it they had been here and her parents had been taken? His fur rose, tears welling in his eyes at the very idea of Tom and Sabine, the most loving and patient adults he had met in years, being in Hawkmoth’s clutches. How long had he known? Had their presence actually been protecting them? They only came into the bakery while they had been out after all. Or maybe they could have entered at any time and only decided to act now and take hostages.

Hands clawed at his arm as he sat there, a single tear slipping from his eye when he blinked and looked. Marinette stared at him, her eyes wide and empty. It scared him and he turned, grabbing her hands. “Marinette…”

“We… we have to go. Master Fu…” she wheezed, clutching his hands. “We have to get help. Someone… someone has to…!”

“Right. We’ll get to Master Fu and try to reach the detectives.” He could pull it together for that much. Releasing her hands, he rose and picked her up. An arm behind her back and his other beneath her knees, he would take their usual route. Thank goodness the helicopters had long given up looking for them because they needed to get there ASAP. “Hold onto me and keep taking deep breaths. Your parents are going to be okay.”

Though she still breathed rapidly, she nodded and began trying to take fuller breaths. He, in turn, launched himself up to her loft and cradled her with one arm to open the hatch. Adjusting his hold, he leapt out, running the second his feet touched down. If people saw them right now, it would be for the briefest instant. All that mattered was getting to Master Fu and Wayzz. And sure, there was a yelp when he touched down before the parlor door, but he darted in.

“Master Fu!” he hollered, taking the stairs three at a time. Wayzz opened the door as he reached the landing so he didn’t crash through that too. The old man stood there, eyes narrowed and solemn at the sight of them both. Behind him, a small television displayed the news: ‘Heroes or Monsters? Workers Saved at Pont des Arts by Bug Girl and Cat Boy’. His heart stopped briefly and he choked, but he forced his eyes shut to refocus. “We… No, you know, but…! The bakery! Hawkmoth… M-Marinette’s parents, he took her parents!” He dropped to the mat, beginning to feel fatigue from madly dashing around a fair amount of Paris. His arms quivered, but held onto Marinette, determined not to let go.

Master Fu’s brows pressed and he waved a hand to Wayzz. The younger man bowed and hurried into the kitchen while the old man sat himself before the two scattered teenagers. Adrien didn’t know what he would do, but he didn’t expect him to say the following words.

“Are you sure he did?”

The question made his fur rise again, “I smelled them… Their stench was on every floor! How could they not have taken them?”

“Adrien, even animals can be deceived,” Master Fu replied calmly. “Considering everything that has happened today, have either of you attempted to contact them? They may have stepped out to find you two after the report…”

Calming down, his anger didn’t dissipate entirely. If her parents hadn’t been there, he didn’t know why any of Hawkmoth’s men would ransack the place. He smelled  _ everything _ ; they had to have been there. He would never forget the smell of them constantly coming into his room, leading him out, injecting him with shots day in and out. They never said anything directly to him, but constantly prodded him and forced him from one examination after the next… he shuddered, panting at the swarming thoughts of his suffering becoming Tom and Sabine’s. But they didn’t have the abilities that Hawkmoth wanted. If he resorted to kidnapping, Adrien didn’t think the man was above torturing people for information.

Mint wafted into his nose as Wayzz returned with two tea cups, and Adrien noticed Marinette hurriedly patting her pockets. “My phone… I must have dropped it when I jumped off the bridge.” She bit her lip and Master Fu hummed, but Adrien stared at the teas. Was this really the time for this?

“Then I will go to the police department and speak to the officers. It’s Roger Raincomprix, Marinette?” Fu asked. She only gave him an affirmative nod, deciding to take a sip of tea. Warm, chocolate eyes looked towards Adrien. “You should have some too, Adrien. It has been a long day for you both. Wayzz will watch you while I’m out…”

“But…” He didn’t know if they had time for this. However, he cut his argument off when Fu shook his head.

“Marinette needs you here, Adrien. And you both need to be out of sight for now. Be patient and rest.”

Emerald orbs glinting, slowly he conceded with the point. Marinette was nested within his hold, and he could still feel her trembling. Sure, it was less, but it was there. Ears drooping, he lowered his head upon hers and reached for the tea, ingesting some slowly while Master Fu rose and moved around the room. Wayzz was gone from the room, but listening, it sounded like he might be digging through a closet.

He was muttering about a cane when exhaustion hit Adrien’s body like a freight train. He hadn’t really considered how much energy he had burnt off all day running and hiding and frantically running some more. Similar must have been coming upon Marinette because he felt her head drop against his shoulder. The tea she had been drinking rested on the ground again and she shifted, tucking herself into a ball in his lap. Setting his cup down – and casting an eye towards Master Fu to see him smile reassuringly – Adrien laid down slowly, easing Marinette to the ground next to him. Just like always, he thought as he curled around her, but he held one of her hands. Listening, and feeling her breathe evenly, his eyes soon glazed, fluttered, and closed.

_ “Master…” _

_ “We do not know, Wayzz. But now, whatever path they take, they will be strong enough to prevail.” _

_ Soft, yellow-green light faded from the bodies of the two slumbering teenagers and the old man grunted, standing up. His student – the young mutant who shared his talents – watched him, meadow eyes wide and frowning. The cane tapped as he walked and the hinges creaked. _

_ “You may try, Wayzz, but some things cannot be changed. We can only do our best to help them.” _

_ The door shut with a faint tap. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Another Wednesday another chapter!
> 
> Quick summary, for those who don't know my [Tumblr](http://artisticflutter.tumblr.com/post/156014718161/crawling-status), I made a post there in regards to future updates and the plan in general. For those who might get intercepted while going to tumblr (because that happened before), basically we have three more chapters which I will try to get out before the end of January and again take a one-two month break to plan the next part, participate in Adrinette Month, and work out some RL stuff. That being said, Part Three will be "Cocoon" starting either in March or April.
> 
> Now with that said, let's talk about this chapter... or chapters because right now is a process of an accident in slow motion. Things have started again and they're not about to stop until forces act upon it that makes it. Of course, you could argue everything has just picked up now which is true in a sense because the plot has returned with a vengeance. I'll just say there's going to be someone in the next chapter, and then another someone in the next chapter, and how good things must come to an end eventually... and that will carry into the next part.
> 
> For now, please leave kudos, comments, and subscribe! See you in the next chapter!


	13. Chloé

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They had been friends since childhood. If anyone could help, she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir was created by Thomas Astruc and Zagtoons, Inc. Please support the official release.
> 
> Beta Reader: [PocketNoivern](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketNoivern/profile)

There was but a single candle illuminating the room when Adrien opened his eyes again, darkness having fallen outside. Vision taking a moment to roam around, he blinked when his sight fell upon the girl barely an arm’s length away. Unlike him, she continued to slumber, and while there was an urge to awaken her, he squashed it. Between the two of them, she needed it. This was a chance for her to be at peace and she was as evident of her relaxed face and steady breathing. Raising a hand, he let it rest against her cheek with a scowl. Or, perhaps only now she was at peace, his eyes making out the tear treks glimmering on her face in the dim light. Sighing, he used his thumb to wipe the trails away, leaning closer to her. Oh, Marinette…

“She’s only managed to dream because you are here…”

Though his thumb stilled, Adrien did not pull his hand away. Blinking, his raised his head and shifted his attention, noticing Wayzz sitting cross-legged with his hands resting on his knees by their lone illuminating light source. Meadow green slowly opened, glowing beneath heavy lids and flickering flame. When Adrien said nothing, the older male decided to continue, “Her rest has been fitful, but given the circumstances, it can only be expected. Unconscious or not, you serve her very well as her partner; though, I only have one partnership to compare it too unlike Master.”

“… Friends?” Adrien ventured, letting his eyes fall back to Marinette. Her nose had slightly scrunched and wiggled, but she let out a soft moan and slept on.

“I don’t know if I knew them long enough to be friends,” Wayzz replied, “but, I would like to think we were. Friends are precious in dark times especially to those of us who find ourselves alone. However, I will admit to… not be envious of your position; of any of yours historically speaking.”

“Right… because of our artificial-”

“No,” Wayzz cut Adrien off, shaking his head. His forehead creased and he exhaled, “Before you two, the last artificial I heard being created was another young woman. Her abilities allowed her to craft illusions which she used to make her escape.” Shifting to his knees, hands pressed against his lap, the pale-haired male bowed his head. “… I told you before, we naturally awaken in dire situations. In the case of yourself and Marinette, and other mutants like you two, you awaken in proximity of each other. As such, the ‘dire events’ that often lead up to the awakening are less than pleasant. For example, Tikki and Plagg were both entangled in a civil war as an innocent civilian caught in the crossfire and a soldier disgusted by his actions.”

Adrien slowly sat up, the small blanket he had been covered by falling into his lap and around his waist. His head remained low, but his ears stood high as he listened – had listened. Wayzz said no more about either Tikki or Plagg, but Adrien wondered. What happened to those two, and where had they gone now? Into hiding of course, but away from people? Did they really have no one now? The more he thought about them, the more he considered their situation – his and Marinette’s. If they had gone into hiding too, somewhere far away from Paris and their loved ones, but he really wondered about the effectiveness of that. Going on the assumption of Hawkmoth already knowing who to look for and who they might come in contact with, if they hadn’t been here, would he really have left them alone? Blonde hair falling aside, he knew that man wouldn’t have just given up on his project… but did that mean he would have gone after others?

Raising his hands, he scratched his head furiously and barely managed to contain his growl. This situation – everything about it was a mess. Running away elsewhere might have been the better choice, but Marinette wanted to come home. He didn’t know what to think about his father, but her parents had a right to have their child back after her kidnapping, didn’t they? She belonged here, happily surrounded by her loved ones with all of this being a bad dream she could finally wake up from. Where was Master Fu to set off that alarm anyway? He hissed, brushing back some hair irritably. The more time they wasted meant the less chance they had of finding her parents. He needed to reach Officer Raincomprix somehow, but he didn’t have his number.

… But, there was someone he knew would be able to reach the officer and the detectives.

Removing the blanket from himself, he laid it upon Marinette, allowing her the warmth of his blanket upon her own before rising to his feet. He started this mess so it was about time he cleaned up. Marching towards the door, he didn’t expect his wrist to be grabbed suddenly; he hadn’t even heard Wayzz move.

“Adrien, Master will be back soon. Please, you must be patient,” he implored, but Adrien shook his head, managing to pull his arm away. Or maybe Wayzz hadn’t been holding on that tightly, minute tremors visible in his fingertips.

“I know someone who can help. If Master Fu didn’t speak with Officer Raincomprix, than she can,” he replied, turning to open the door. “She can also get more help outside of this police department; private detectives that might actually be able to find and stop Hawkmoth from hurting anyone else.” Looking over his shoulder to meet wide, pale green eyes, Adrien gave Wayzz a small smile. “She’s my friend so it should be okay…”

Wayzz did not return the grin, his face a grimace instead. “… And if Marinette is to awaken while you’re gone?”

“Tell her I’ll be back. There’s a home she deserves to be in, but her parents should be there too.”

His words didn’t appear to reassure Wayzz, but he couldn’t stay and continue debating. Eyes looking forward, he left the room and almost jumped the staircase. Leaning against the parlor door, he listened. When it sounded like no one was outside of the parlor, he stepped outside, closing the door behind him, and took to the rooftops. He had to get to Le Grand Paris.

 

* * *

 

There wasn’t any doubt in his mind that the front door was out of the question, both feet landing quietly on the top floor’s balcony. Every light in the room literally seemed to be on and he maintained his distance until his sight adjusted. His ears pulled back, they turned forward and rotated a little more. He could hear her talking animatedly, most likely on her cell phone, and he made out the distinct pulsing music of a fashion runway. A brief peek through the glass doors, and he could see her there on her favorite chair, watching a model make her way down the catwalk on television and loudly commentating to whomever was on the other line. Her pale blonde hair was still up in the usual high ponytail and she was wearing her favorite bumblebee yellow jacket over a black and white striped top with white capris.

He remembered when she first got that outfit. He helped her pick out the jacket after a short back and forth until he said it paired well with her hair and eyes. Raising a claw to tap the glass, he froze.

She had changed from their childhood. Sure, she hadn’t been the kindness person he ever knew – that distinction went to Marinette – but she had been better. When they were kids, she had been demanding but patient, which had been something he needed. He had known little about the world beyond the mansion’s walls so she had been his source, always willing to regale her day to him or tell him some public school gossip. Sure, not everything she had said had been true he knew that now, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that girl he knew was still in there beneath the superficial appearance she typically upheld…  _ if _ she still upheld it after he disappeared.

Hopefully, she wouldn’t turn him away because of his new look. Despite how hopeful he was, he was glad there was plenty of cover scattered on the balcony that could be used to hide behind.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling, he knocked on the glass. The chatting stopped for a second, but then resumed as though nothing happened. He tapped again, snapping his hand back when she huffed and he imagined her rolling her eyes.

_ “Hang on! Some stupid pigeon must be tapping at the glass again.” _

Eyes expanding, he ducked as she marched to the balcony doors, making his way behind one of the many covered chairs. Peeking out, he noted her head turned left and right, and saw her sky blue eyes were narrowed in an irritated scowl. Raising the phone back to her ear, she huffed, “Dumb birds… Anyway, as I was saying…!”

“Chloé?” he called. There were no footsteps; she must have heard him. Chancing another look, he spotted her frozen at the doors, phone still to her ear. He tried again, “Chlò?”

“… Adrien?”

She turned around again with hesitant steps and slowly lowered the phone. Unlike before, her scowl had become wide-eyed bewilderment as she searched for him. Just seeing that, he felt elated, warm relief rising in his chest.

“Y-Yeah… I snuck out so we can’t really talk face-to-face. Have to stay hidden from the cameras and all,” he said, and immediately held his breath. It was such a lame excuse, but she might accept it.

From her scoff a moment later, she did. “I can’t believe you had to sneak out to see me! Your dad should be inviting your most important friend over every day. Not that I’m always available, but he knows I would make time for you.”

Adrien winced at the mention of his father, but pushed through, smiling bitterly behind his hiding place. “Yeah, I’ll have to talk to him about that later.” Later, but he wondered how his father was doing. If that show on television was anything to go by, he was probably doing fine without him. Shaking his head, he wasn’t here to talk about visiting hours. “Anyway, Chloé, I came to ask you something. It’s extremely important, but dad is being particular about who I’m calling so-“

“So you need me to do it?” she interjected. He could see she already had her thumb hovering over her phone – either to speed dial or punch in whatever number he gave her. “Gimme the name or number.”

“Thank you.” This was going better than he expected honestly. He would owe her so many shopping excursions after this. “I need you to call Officer Raincomprix.”

“What? Why him?”

There was something about the tone she’d taken that had him pause, but again, he was on a time restraint. “On my way over, I saw there was a break-in at the bakery across the street from your school. I… it looked like a robbery, but I smelled blood. I think the owners are in danger.”

“ _ That _ Patisserie?” The thumb that had been hovering over her phone moved away and she nonchalantly brushed several loose strands of hair behind her ear. His eyes widened; he didn’t understand. “Adridear, you’re so naïve. That’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s family bakery.” He frowned at how she spat Marinette’s name out, that feeling of elation now melting into annoyance. But he said nothing to interrupt her, letting her continue. “I know, you probably heard about this whole kidnapping nonsense, and your dad must remind you every morning how if that can happen to a baker’s daughter then it can definitely happen to you so I won’t bore you. I know a marketing ploy when I see it.”

“Marketing ploy…!?” He didn’t understand; no, he couldn’t  _ believe _ she said that.

“I told you before, that girl is so sweet it’s disgusting. It’s one of the oldest tricks in the book to garner sympathy later, and her parents are no better.” Claw curling, Adrien tried to keep his temper down. Chloé didn’t know, and he didn’t have time to explain. “I’m sure they set everything up to drum up business in that poor shop of theirs, and now they’ve run off to do it in the next city.”

His fangs pressed, and he couldn’t completely contain his growl.

“… Was that a cat?”

He coughed, “Y-Yeah. One… managed to get up here somehow.”

“Great, now I have to call the pound to pick it up.”

“Chlò, please, call Officer Raincomprix…” Adrien knew his distress was beginning to creep into his voice and his patient grew thin. “One stray cat can wait… I’ll even take it home so you don’t have to deal with it.”

“Why do you care? You saw her two-faced attitude those days you came to school.”

“Anyone would’ve been mad if someone put chewed gum on their seat. I was able to apologize to her and I even avoided telling her you did it.”

“Hah, you didn’t need to do that. No wonder she has that ridiculous crush; she’s probably going to get her claws into you next.”

Hands on his head, he didn’t get it, mostly ignoring what she said about a crush. What did Marinette do to Chloé? Was it really so terrible that she wouldn’t call the police for an emergency regarding her family? Making out her phone ringing, there was a small spark of hope. “Hello? Yes, animal control? There’s a stray cat lingering around Le Grand Paris and I need someone to catch it before it makes someone sick, mainly me.”

Why?

He stood up before he realized it and faced her.

Why? He had so much faith in her to do something for him. Weren’t they friends?

Adrien caught her eyes and watched as her surprise quickly turned into disgusted terror. She stumbled back, but he raised his claws, reaching out to her, “Chloé--”

Her piercing scream had him springing backward and covering his ear, swallowing a hiss that wanted to instinctively burst out. If that didn’t attract attention to her room, her quick dialing would.

“No! C-Chloé, wait! Please!”

“G-Get away from me! You’re not Adrikins!” she snapped and he felt his heart sink. Opening his mouth to try and talk to her, her shouting overpowered his voice, “Daddy! There’s a hideous monster outside my room! I think it’s the one that was on the news!”

Adrien didn’t listen to the rest – or more, he tried his best to tune it out, but her words stabbed him, burning his chest as he moved away from her. Not that she paid any attention racing back into her room and slamming the door shut behind her. He stared at where she had once been and saw her running towards her door. Her father and whomever else she may have called for wouldn’t have arrived yet, but he didn’t need to see anymore. He had hoped – and he had wanted to see her again, and now, he was curling his claws in his retreat and vaulting over the balcony railing to flee once again. But she was his friend, right? And he didn’t know where Nino lived or how to start trying to find out.

He messed up again; he should have listened to Wayzz. And now, he didn’t know where he was going as sirens rang through the night air, but he knew it wasn’t back to the massage parlor yet. If the chaise in Marinette’s room was an option; no, if he could just be curled up beside her again and sleeping, and not making any more stupid mistakes that put them all at risk, but he couldn’t. It was his bad luck doing this, wasn’t it? He needed to be away from them until it stopped; somewhere he actually belonged.

Feet landing, he found himself frozen before he realized his destination. Blinking, he raised his head and took in the sight of the Agreste Manor.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character number one to be introduced before the story closes annnd gosh I was worried if this would be in-character for her. Without akuma, and without certain people keeping her attitude in check, maybe she would be this nasty. Or, was I being tame with her? Characters like Chloé can be difficult for me to write because she's bad, but then there are episodes where she's _terrible_. Also, she's a little shallow for a bully and I'm curious to see her development in Season Two. Besides Chloé, hee, did you see that mention of three other characters who might make an appearance in the next part? /wink
> 
> ANYWAY, TWO MORE CHAPTERS! I already have the next one done, and I finished my zine piece so I can finish writing the last chapter. Are you guys excited? I might be able to post the ending before next week! And besides that, I got nothing else to really say, but again, don't hesitate to stop by my tumblr which is the same username as on here.
> 
> As always, please leave kudos, comments, and subscribe! See you in the next chapter!


	14. Agreste Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is his home - or it was his home. But that smell...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir was created by Thomas Astruc and Zagtoons, Inc. Please support the official release.
> 
> Beta Reader: [PocketNoivern](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketNoivern/profile)

This was unexpected.

A panel in the window was unlocked. Looking back towards the wall, he saw the lights flashing on the other side, and knew the road would be congested by police cars. His nose scrunching, he turned back to the glass pane with flattened ears, trying to get the ringing out of his head and the creeping knowledge of where they were going. His claws fit into the gap, he slowly pried the window open with several ear flicks whenever the unattended hinges began to squeak. Once it was far enough, he slipped inside and closed it behind him. Letting out a breath, he shivered as he took those first few steps away from the windows and rubbed his arms as his eyes took in a once faded memory – his actual room.

It was just as the day he left it in September.

His chair was pushed into his desk, the covers on his bed were immaculately made, and all of the computer monitors were dark, electricity buzzing from the surge protector still plugged into the wall. Silently, he crept around to examine the rest of the foreign space, feet carrying towards the bookshelves and railing leading to the second floor. It was strange seeing everything again; the rock wall, his trophies and pennants, but there was a startling lack of dust. Hawkmoth said his stay would be indefinite, but if his father didn’t expect or want him back, why keep this clean? Then again, his father never removed the reminders of mother and kept them all in pristine condition. All Adrien could do was wonder why to any of this, drawing his claws away.

He didn’t miss this – or at least, he didn’t want to admit it. It was his home; of course he missed being in it, but it felt cold. Again, it was always cold, but it was missing a sense he’d gone without for over a year before staying with Marinette. He remembered when it had felt warm in what felt like ages ago, back when his mother was around. She would play games with him, or watch him climb his rock wall when he was free from tutoring. There would be evenings they would read together, or where she would tuck him into bed. Sometimes, his father would be there too. If only they could be a family again; if only there had been something to help his father’s grief before it came down to this.

Stepping away from the shelves, he walked past his bed, allowing his fingers to trail across it. Soft, Egyptian cotton – the best money could buy, but it wasn’t his bed anymore. He could only think of being curled up beneath one pink-and-black comforter anymore, snuggled up to _her_ body, and listening to _her_ breathing. But Adrien exhaled sharply, recalling how hours ago they found their home ruined and their captor’s message calling them out. Hawkmoth knew; he was positive that man knew.

His head snapped up towards the skate ramp and door leading out of his room, pupils contracting to thin lines.

Hawkmoth knew…

He knew where they were staying, Tom and Sabine, Alya, Nino… and he had spoken to his father directly before. Dread seeped into his skin and crawled towards his chest. Just like how his powers occasionally jolted him, the fear shocked his heart, making it pound madly against his ribs and deafened his ears. He had Tom and Sabine, and what was stopping him from kidnapping everyone else? And if he knew them, then how safe were Marinette and Wayzz really right now? Standing at the bedroom door, his nose quivered.

Blood, bleach, and chemicals… mixed with a few unique, repulsive scents to try covering them up. He saw them swimming in his sight, their lab coats, their nurses, and felt the chilling metal against his back. Adrien’s mouth throbbed, gums aching, and each nail felt like then – throbbing like they had been smashed and tips stinging as each nail cracked, bled, and peeled off. At some point, he heard nothing. His human ears stopped working for hours, but among the first sounds he heard later were his own screams when his new ears finally began shaping. Those memories left him dizzy and no matter how hard he shook, they remained clinging just like the scent of those people who had been in the manor recently.

 

“Father…”

 

Fingers curled around the door knob.

 

“Dad…!”

 

_He was seated before Hawkmoth, asking when he was going home._

_“Our business with you is indefinite.”_

_“You will obey, Chat Noir.”_

Adrien’s moment of defiance and Hawkmoth had knocked him down, holding him there while he yowled and spat in his early mutation state.

It couldn’t happen…! Not to anyone else!

 

_“Dad!”_

 

He acted far too often on impulse lately, but he ripped the door open anyway and rushed down the hall. Each step was a silent bound, feline agility keeping his movements light, but his panicked breathing was fairly audible. It might be a problem if the manor wasn’t hauntingly vacant of even the usual staff. Perhaps Adrien was deaf to his surroundings; he could only hear his heartbeat, but he continued smelling the facility and its scientists all while springing down the stairs. Landing crouched in the main foyer, he crawled on all fours, nose twitching as he desperately sniffed for anything other than those retched odors from before.

It was a tap that drew his attention after minutes of crawling and sniffing. Black ears twisted and then righted themselves in the direction of his father’s office. He couldn’t confirm a scent, but he heard the tap again. Was that his father? Was it Natalie? The Gorilla? If someone was still here, they needed to get out of here before Hawkmoth came back. He sprinted towards the massive double doors on all fours, springing to his feet last second to slam them open with his hands.

Dark-tiled walls made the room almost pitch black even for his eyes, but they adjusted, pupils expanding to permit more light. Frames occupied otherwise empty space, housing contemporary paintings and photographs, but a massive golden frame to his right contained photo upon photo of him before the transformations. His father always kept the best from his modeling shoots and seeing them – seeing himself with flawless skin, normal eyes and hands, and perfectly coiffed hair - it almost completely distracted him from the silhouette before his mother’s painting hanging on the far wall. The form was so familiar physically. He pulled his eyes away from his photographs to face him, swallowing thickly as his throat suddenly felt constricted.

“… D-Dad?” His ears drooped when the short memory of his encounter with Chloé barely an hour ago rose, causing slight apprehension. Adrien could withstand her rejection, but if his father did truly turn him away now, he didn’t know if he would recover. It terrified him. “Dad, don’t… don’t freak out and let me explain… please.”

The dark form said nothing and didn’t shift. Inhaling, Adrien’s nose was still clogged by the scents from before, but he managed to smell something exclusive to his father beneath the usual designer cologne: peonies. His mother picked them out for him and he had continued to carry the smell after her passing, often decorating his office with them and sunflowers, but never both at the same time. It had to be him.

“Father--”

 

“Chat Noir…”

 

A beat of silence fell.

Adrien reacted far slower than he would’ve liked, but his fur and hair stood once he realized, irises gleaming bright. He leapt backwards, taking a stance with his shoulders hunched, claws extended to his sides, and his ears jutting forward. Behind him, his tail rose, but arched in the center and he knew his fur bristled there too as his eyes took another sweeping examination of the suited figure cloaked in darkness. That wasn’t one of his father’s signature suits; at least, he never wore any shades of purple. And looking up, what he mistook for his father’s pale hair was light glinting off the back of a silver-gray mask.

Fear shot a chill down his spine as his widening acid eyes locked with mirthful steely ones as Hawkmoth turned to face him.

 

“Welcome… I’ve been waiting for you.”

 

One click of Hawkmoth’s cane and fight responses fled Adrien.

He bolted from the office, claws scraping the floors in his mad rush towards the front doors only to skid to a halt before them. The heavy stench of blood and chemical coating the handles and wood brought images of men and women waiting on the other side, empty faces and eyes waiting to see what his reaction would be this time when they injected his arms. Flinching, he turned and ducked into the dining hall, but found himself reeling back. Several nurses and scientists were physically present, blocking the windows and kitchen doors, their eyes all turning towards him at his appearance. A startling crackle and pop, and Adrien’s own attention snapped to the nurse nearest him now holding the extendable stun baton that sparked to life. The frightful hiss from his throat did not deter the man like it did the police officer that morning.

Pivoting on his heels, he was darting from the dining hall back into the foyer and hurriedly ascended the steps, alarm spiking at the sound of Hawkmoth’s metallic cane gradually approaching. His room! He would flee back out the window! His chest swelled hopefully only to burst when he found himself backpedaling away, heart leaping into his throat as a handler stepped out of the very place he was headed.

When did they get there? How did he _not_ realize they were there before?!

Unwilling to take a second glance, Adrien dashed back to the stairs, determined to head for his father’s room on the other side of the dividing staircase, but as he reached the landing, there stood several more facility workers blocking him off. If he jumped, he would land on them. They were armed to pin him down, knock him out, and drag him back.

 

No! He didn’t want to go back!

 

In desperation, he raised his claws to rip through the human barricade, but there was a resounding bang behind him. He yelled as he was violently yanked to the ground, his body instinctively twisting and kicking at weighted ropes which only served to further tangle them around him. The motion had him bucking and rolling, and momentarily forgetting about the staircase’s narrow juncture.

Adrien felt his shoulder collide solidly with the first step before his entire body unceremoniously spilled down the staircase, each knock downward punctured a bruise upon his skin and his descent was further peppered by his head whacking harshly against several intermittent steps, stalling his attempts to catch himself. Body bouncing off the final step, he hit the ground floor of the foyer, rolling briefly before coming to a stop. Bile burned his throat and prickled his cheeks as his head swam from the multiple hits. Everything ached, his vision blurred, and the woven net before his eyes did not help the next wave of nausea.

Groaning, he could at least feel his power bubbling around his hand and languidly swung, causing the knotted threads to disintegrate over him. The ash irritated his numbed form, but it did motivate him to move. He rolled onto his stomach, ignoring his head as it further canted, and pushed himself up with his hands and knees. Footsteps hammered like a stampede and pounded against his eardrums, but that clicking cane managed to cut through it all.

Perception righting itself, but his mind still a blur, he only needed to make out polished dress shoes and those matching dark orchid pants before he snarled and lunged with a claws poised to strike.

Just a few more centimeters and he would’ve ripped the smiling man’s chest.

Just a few more centimeters, and perhaps he truly would have finally ended this madness.

Were it not for the steel cord ensnaring his wrist and three handlers pulling, Adrien would have willingly allowed his destructive powers to overtake his claw for a third time to kill this man. A second and third cord looped around his other hand and neck, several more handlers tugging the connecting poles. The wires tightened, strangling him, and digging into his throat and wrists to the point they began to draw blood. Still, that didn’t stop the blonde boy from kicking, cat-like eyes shining brilliantly as his powers ignited darkness beyond black over to flood from his back and across his torso.

Rage consumed fear; instinct swallowed human conscience. The handlers attempting to restrain him soon skidded across the marble tiles as the mutant’s fight re-doubled in effort. Adrien’s hand shot out and seized the control pole to his left, nearly ripping it from several hands that now fought to hold and soon wound up careening into the few individuals that held the one around his neck. Hand freed, he grabbed the last pole restraining his right hand with both claws, sending bodies flying as he threw them across the room with a booming roar. Others came only for similar results when they tried to get him down again. Even the stunning zap from their electric batons did not paralyze him, but his entranced state retaliated with oozing claws visibly dripping corrosive destruction that sought to devour anything it landed on.

“Chat Noir…”

Darkened face and burning eyes looming from beneath whipped around to leer at Hawkmoth who still gazed down at him with such smug confidence. Lips curling to reveal extended fangs, Adrien’s attention left the workers in favor of charging the older male with an awful eagerness to see that expression literally melt off his face.

“Don’t you want to see your father again?”

His claws and his face pulled, his powers dripping onto the man’s suit without the potency it had a split-second before. Though his eyes remained wide and wild, and the rest of his body held tense as the cat mutant had stalled. Of course, it didn’t stop the rasping growl rumbling from his throat, but he did bother to diminish it behind gnashed teeth in order to listen.

“That’s what I thought,” Hawkmoth hummed, lips still turned upwards in a victorious smirk. “Now that you’re done throwing a tantrum, perhaps you’ll listen like the obedient mutant you should be.”

“Where is my father?” Adrien hissed, his fangs still pressed tight. The cane tapped the ground, and involuntarily, he recoiled and crouched closer to the ground, audibly quieting further.

“Your father is with Ladybug’s parents…”

The very admission had him quivering and his temper spiked once more. His mouth opened to snap, but Hawkmoth wasn’t finished.

“… and with Ladybug herself.”

All sounded ceased and his curled lip lowered. Any anger in his eyes faded into disbelief though he did his best to maintain a poker face, locking eyes with his captor. There was no way to detect his lie through such hard stare and his body language never changed. This man, as long as Adrien knew him, never allowed emotions to betray him, but empower his actions. So, he could only try his other senses, sniffing to see what else he could detect beneath the usual wet iron, chemicals, and bleach. Peonies did indeed cling to his suit, but so did the smells of warm rising dough and sweet spices - Tom and Sabine. His brows pressed as he inhaled again, the next scents wafting to him – of both minty incense and sweet fresh bread.

“… Marinette.”

“Hm, your progress outside has exceeded my expectations. It’s a good thing I didn’t collect you two sooner.”

Adrien somehow managed to remain standing, but his very will was draining. Metal cane clicked against marble again and his ears pulled back.

“You’re going to behave, and come back with me, #013. #707 has already agreed, but if you continue fighting me, know you’re only going to make it worse for your father, her parents, and those two friends.”

Adrien balled his fists as his tremors started anew. Nino… Alya!

“Their powers are of no particular use to me, but I can turn them, too.”

“No…!”

Hawkmoth raised his head as Adrien bowed his lower, his eyes stinging. He wouldn’t let his man see him cry like this, but the images already flashed through his head while his ears rung with their screams. “No… don’t hurt them…” Dropping to the ground on his knees, they throbbed, but Adrien didn’t care to pay any mind. His claws gripping his legs, they slid to the ground with splayed digits and held. “… I’ll go. I’ll go with you. Just leave them alone.”

It always felt so cold in his house, but it never managed to creep in his veins like this as he waited for Hawkmoth to speak again.

“… Then so it shall be. See what happens when you just obey, #013? I may grant you what you want if you keep this up... Maybe you'll even see Ladybug again.”

Adrien choked, feeling several wet drops fall onto his hands as he allowed the handlers to grab him and bind his arms behind his back. The mask they slid over his face didn’t stop the next ones that fell either when the needle pierced his skin. He did not fight the medicine putting him into a dreamless slumber, but allowed unconsciousness to engulf him.

_"I'm sorry..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... One more chapter. One more chapter before we officially close Crawl(ing). Now, if I can get past this minor structural block for the chapter, it should be ready Sunday or Monday. Of course, we'll see how it plays out. Also, if you're wondering about peonies being a flower for Gabriel, well, butterflies like them, Agreste is derived from a butterfly species... also, the flower has so many meanings such as prosperity, happy marriage, and honor.
> 
> But let's not talk about flowers. Instead, let's talk about just how it's going to be a while before we return to Adrien like this again. Also, someone tell my brain not to do mini-related stories in this universe featuring Wayzz, Tikki, and Plagg even if seeing their awakenings and escape would be interesting... ugh! Too many things on the brain, plot bunnies need to stop!
> 
> Stopping myself before I get too far into these thoughts! Please leave kudos, comments, and subscribe! See you in the next chapter!


	15. Arise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's gone, but she's done running away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir was created by Thomas Astruc and Zagtoons, Inc. Please support the official release.
> 
> Beta Reader: [PocketNoivern](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketNoivern/profile)

“I’m sorry…”

She said nothing, legs crossed and hands in her lap. Fingers were intertwined, but not properly together. It didn’t feel right; nothing about this was right, but this managed to be worse. Eyes narrowed and blinking slowly, Marinette raised her head from her lap to stare across from her – stare at him sitting with her in the void where darkness and light seemed to collide. Because of this, the floor glowed beneath them, the soft light creating a fog around them. But, when she looked at Adrien, he was faded. His eyes were milky and tears fell as he stared emptily at the ground right before her. He curled his lips in a wry smile, claws shaking where they rested again the ground, and she wanted to reach out to stop it.

“I was happy… to be part of a real family again.”

His voice was gentle and his tone echoed his appreciation.

“I could remember what it was like to be with my parents back before it fell apart. But you know what, Marinette? I get it now…”

She bit her lip as his tears spilled with more frequency and his smile wavered.

“I am bad luck. It’s been in my genes so this was bound to happen. I can’t have happiness… I can’t be around people, I can’t have a family, and I can’t be with you; not without them getting hurt. But… but at least you’re home.” His breath escaped him as a whimper, and she noticed the dark fur creeping up his arm and over his chest. Over his cheeks, and down his neck, he was being engulfed.

“So, I’m going back… where I should have returned before.”

“Adrien… Adrien, no. You don’t belong in that place…!” she gasped, finally able to move part of herself forward. Only, she fell to the ground with her arm outstretched to him and her chitin coated digits reaching. Where the fur covered him, it began to writhe like fire, growing across the expanse of his body as his eyes dimmed further and form began to grow beneath it. She could make out his hands and feet, and flinched as joints popped and snapped, growing larger while his claws sharpened more than before. “Stop! Adrien!”

_ “It hurts… Marinette.” _

“You’re not… don’t leave me, please…!”

_ “I’m a monster, Marinette. You’ll be safe without me.” _

“But you’re not…” she argued, desperation constricting her throat with her urge to sob. His form was looming over her, bestial limbs locked in chains decorated by her spots. Marinette tried again to at least touch his paw, but he was fading faster, and the whites that were now his eyes closed when all of him was finally gone. Her fingers touched and scratched the ground where he had been, her breathing becoming rapid when she truly felt nothing. Not even the warmth of his presence was left behind.

“… We’re supposed to stay together… I was going to – I wanted…” she mumbled, vision blurred at the scarlet spots her fingertips ran through. “You’re not a monster. You’re not, and you deserve to be here… You deserve to be happy, too…! Adrien!”

Her screaming awakened her to soft meadow green and honey brown eyes looking back at her, Master Fu sitting on his knees besides Wayzz who had been reaching out towards her. Staring at them, she felt cold despite her hand pulling at two blankets stacked upon her… but she hadn’t even fallen asleep with a blanket covering her because she had been next to Adrien. Slowly, she felt her eyes widened and shifted, letting her hand reach behind her back. She came in contact with nothing but the parlor’s matting. She didn’t hear any purring or sense any presence that could calm the oncoming panic escalating in her chest.

“Where is he? Master Fu, Wayzz, where’s Adrien?” she questioned, alarm trickling into her voice as she sat up and turned. No brilliant emerald eyes met her or gentle smile, and she didn’t make out any figure with golden hair and flicking black ears looming in the corner or by the window gazing to the street below. Shivering, she hugged the blankets tighter around her shoulders before turning back to face the two.

Wayzz opened his mouth, but closed it, at a loss on how to answer. Master Fu, however, bowed his head and somehow managed to maintain a calm vestige though his tone rumbled with undeniable tension. “While I was away speaking with Officer Raincomprix and the detectives about your parents, Adrien departed to get help himself. Wayzz told me he was going to speak with a friend… though, which friend, I’m not sure.”

“He mentioned a ‘her’. If you know any female friends he might have…” Wayzz stated, but then faltered, glancing back towards Master Fu. Marinette felt herself shift anxiously, heart sinking at the expression the old man now wore.

“I’m afraid that Hawkmoth managed to capture him, Marinette…” Master Fu said slowly, watching her closely. She didn’t react entirely as expected, but there were still wide eyes and parted lips; stinging eyes and silent tears. Honestly, she had feared this – her dream had been a warning though, hadn’t it? The vision of the blind Adrien came before her again, his pained smile, and the fur – the misfortune – consuming his body, turning him into… something. She hadn’t been able to see, but she knew he had become  _ something _ – and she knew she had seen it once before in a nightmare months ago.

“… Master Fu, is he going to be okay? The last time we were apart--”

“Fortune hurt him... Don’t worry. He will be fine in that regard. Both of you will,” Master Fu answered, calming her in that aspect, but the images of that pained feline form clouded by bad luck didn’t leave her mind. The old man spoke onward, “You two have almost plateaued in your mutations. All that’s left is a final step before your bodies revert to the way they were and become able to properly handle your abilities. Being separated like this will make you feel weak, but you should not hibernate unless you overtax your body.”

So, they had been near the end; this whole time, if they could have come back sooner and skipped their day out, they would be in-control. It explained why she was still somewhat tired without him near, but she knew she ached for other reasons as well. She should be more at ease, but she wasn’t.

Master Fu had said he would be fine in that regard.

“What could happen to Adrien then? Is there something else Hawkmoth can do?” Marinette didn’t want to ask, but she had to. Rubbing her eyes clear, she had to know what else might happen  _ if _ anything else could. And knowing the little she did – seeing how Wayzz’s expression twisted – she was positive there was something else they had not been told. Was it better to be ignorant in this regard? Or perhaps it was time for her to stop being unaware anymore. This was happening; they were part of this mad man’s goals, and she… she needed to save her best friend because running away and hiding wasn’t an option anymore. Her hand resting over her heart, she clenched the front of her shirt tight, waiting for Master Fu or Wayzz to speak, but they didn’t have much time. The moment Adrien was back in the facility, no doubt Hawkmoth would resume his ‘work’ on the already tortured boy.

“Marinette…” Wayzz finally spoke, trailing as he clutched his pant legs. Master Fu cast a knowing eye towards the younger male, but did not say anything. Instead, Wayzz ventured on now that his mouth began to move. “… As you have learned, with each mutant power we take on animal characteristics both physically and mentally, that can be transformed into. Ancient civilizations could refer to us as deities and we influenced how they viewed animals as symbols in their culture. Of course, not everyone is blessed with powers that would be considered good.”

“Right. You said they were called demons and monsters too… basically, everything that’s usually considered dangerous and evil.” Marinette could understand where other people might be coming from. She would be shocked seeing people similar to herself suddenly turn into what might as well be animal hybrids and use magic. Something? She was capable of manipulating an unpredictable and intangible force, and so was Adrien. It was all so bizarre to think about still, but she waited for Wayzz to say more.

“There was more than just using their abilities around normal individuals. Well… Adrien had his moments behaving like a cat, correct?”

Marinette didn’t even hesitate to nod. She had seen plenty, and knew he had been fairly adept at resolving to use them on a number of occasions. And if she recalled (though, her memory was slightly hazy from that appointment), Master Fu had told Adrien to trust his instincts leading up her wings emerging. “He only used them when he needed to. Why?”

“… Instincts can be both a strength and weakness to Natural and Artificial mutants,” Wayzz stated, gaining her full attention. “They are the driving factors in our mutations – by humans reaching for these basic instincts to survive, it sparks the mutation. However, overreliance or giving into them too often… and the mutation may go beyond.”

“… What?”

It felt like her eyes might pop out of her skull. This was news that seemed rather imperative for them to know before!

“It doesn’t happen often anymore, but in the past, it was a problem,” Master Fu admitted, hand stroking his beard. “Those who became desperate, or voluntarily turned to their instincts for strength and protection, it acts as another being that can command the body and bring one to perform feats they normally might not. But when a mutant gives in, it can overwhelm the human conscious, corrupting it and physically turn the mutant into a more suitable form for itself. It’s devolution to a primal form and makes us become the very creatures we embody, losing ourselves and being pulled back is almost impossible.”

Marinette huddled further beneath her blankets in disbelief. This would have definitely been something nice to know sooner. It explained all of Adrien’s – wait… She blinked. “Adrien was always falling in and out of his instincts. Why was that?”

“That would be due to his mutating too quickly and improperly. Even if you two were artificial, being together--”

“Is part… of what triggers our mutations,” Marinette finished for Wayzz, and remembered Master Fu talking about permanent effects left on Adrien. Then, influencing him more easily meant he would be more susceptible to turning primal. And if her ‘dream’ was anything to go by, there was no time. “… Why couldn’t you have told us sooner?”

“Again, Marinette, what would you have done?” Master Fu inquired. He had asked this before, back when they first came. Why hadn’t they come to them upon their original return? But this time was different.

“I probably would’ve run, but I would’ve tried helping Adrien while doing so…” she grumbled, brows furrowing. “… This whole time, he was concerned about everyone else, but that was just like him. He always wanted to know how I was doing, making promises to see me home, and he even went to ask this ‘friend’ for help because of what happened at the bakery… he wasn’t worried about himself; he didn’t say how he was feeling or ever said what he wanted.”

It was something she thought she asked him about enough or had tried to, but it still hadn’t been enough. Despite their conversations, he maintained his distance and hesitance to ask for anything. But that was still like him. After so long being disappointed and doing what he was told instead of asked.

Scowling, she dropped the blankets from her shoulders and rose to her feet, wings shifting on her back. Was she scared? Of course, but it wasn’t going to direct her course any longer; she  _couldn't_ let it.

“Thank you, Master Fu… and I’m sorry for getting angry. If I had known in the past, I know I wouldn’t be making this decision now.” Her clothes were a mess from this afternoon, but she didn’t have anything to change into. About to depart for a visit she needed to make, she froze when Master Fu cleared his throat to get her attention. Reaching behind him, he pulled out a bag and presented it to her with a small, unmarked box on top. Her antennae which until now had been lying down in her hair, stood up. She could smell the contents, and her mouth opened.

“I didn’t have to chance to tell you, but the police relocated your parents before the bakery was attacked. My delay was due to me working with your mother and father preparing these for you both, though…” He didn’t need to say it, eyes briefly drifting before she accepted the bag. “Some alterations were made for your wings. And when they’re closed, no one should know the wiser.”

Her Maman and Papa; at least she didn’t have to worry about them. Still, the bag crinkled and the box slid as she gripped the packaging tighter. It would be awhile before she could even think of seeing them again, but they would understand – they were still doing everything they could for Adrien and her. A warm, aged hand cupped her knuckle and she raised her head to meet Master Fu’s eyes. “Remember you’re not alone in this endeavor… so don’t hesitate to contact your friends or us when you need help.”

“… Right. He told me that too.”

Nodding, she gazed up at the sound of a door, and noticed Wayzz had opened one hidden behind the paper room divider present behind himself and Master Fu. “We’ll prepare a place for you here to hide while you make your plans. But, since you probably want to get a head start right now, you may use this room to change.”

“Thank you, Wayzz…” she managed to muster up a faint, but grateful smile, and then bowed to Master Fu. “Thank you for everything, and for speaking to my parents.”

“You’re welcome, Marinette. Go on...”

He moved aside for her, and young girl looked toward the open room again. Holding both bag and box to her chest, she breathed slowly, and walked through the door.

_ ‘I’m coming, Adrien… and Hawkmoth is going to pay!’ _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd with this chapter, we conclude Part Two of Metamorphosis. About time too right? We started this back in November? Daamn, that seems so long ago... but it's only been about two months. Huh...
> 
> Anyway, a few things before I tell you when Part Three may make its appearance. 
> 
> First of all, that thing I was talking about a few chapters ago... Personally, I feel like some of these chapters might move too fast? Idk what your guys' opinion on it is, but I know I'm skipping some details that could probably be in the chapter rather than being omitted, but I usually have no idea what it is until later. As such, for the next part, chapters might not come once a week if I'm not entirely satisfied and will result in sporadic posting. However, since I am taking February (and possibly March) off to plot the next part fully, draw, and other such, we'll see what I manage... annnd maybe I'll have more details for the chapters than loose titles just noting what needs to happen before each one is over.
> 
> Second, yes, I'm taking a break again. I'll probably have intermittent one-shots, but don't really expect anything related to this series... maybe. You never know with plot bunnies. No new massive stories at least will be started until after this whole series is completed.
> 
> Third, you're probably wondering what I will do with the knowledge of the other actual Miraculous users revealed for Season Two in regards to this story; whether or not they'll appear as mutants themselves. Wellll, I can't say at this point. Maybe? But at the same instance, there's just not enough known of Season Two that I think I'm really prepared to have them added. Maybe I will, maybe I won't - this is already high AU so I can always runaway with details and do whatever, but I would like a little more. At the very best that I know right now, if others show up, the Peacock will probably not be one. Maybe mentions of a past Peacock, but no Peacock... NOW I can't say anything about them maybe appearing in Part Four when the time comes, but that part might not be until... September/October with how I work.
> 
> Well, that's about all to say for now. Come bother me on my Tumblr or Twitter which both use the same username as my AO3. I'll be participating in Adrinette February so there will be those updates and I might have some Metamorphosis related things going on there later... once I figure out a few things. As always, please leave kudos, comments, and subscribe for future updates! See you in March (or April) with Part Three: Cocoon.


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